Some things never change
by Shinosu
Summary: Based on Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves. What if Robin Hood was not a man, but a young woman? She meets up with John Little's gang and is thrown into a war against the Sheriff of Nottingham. Robin finds that some things change, and some things never do...
1. Default Chapter

**N/A:** Hey, this is just a default chapter, to explain some things.

First of all, this is my first fic ever on so be gentle!

This story is based on the great film "Robin Hood, Prince of Thieves" with Kevin Costner and Christian Slater. It takes place in an AU, so don't come bugging me about things that are not 'possible'. I love constructive criticism though, hell, I already like it if you just tell me if you think I should continue or not. .

Whether or not this is a Mary Sue is for you to decide, some people hate 'em, but I don't really mind.

Suggestions are always welcome, you might help me out when I'm in a tight spot!

**General diclaimer:** Nothing, except the plot and the people you don't recognize from the film are mine, the rest belongs to the great people who wrote and realized this film.

**Short summary:** What if Robin Hood was not a man, but a young woman? Her father and brother are away on a crusade, leaving her behind in Locksley to care for their estate. One day, she strays in Sherwood Forest, meeting John Little and his gang. This is the start of a fight against the Sheriff of Nottingham and his mysterious cousin Guy. Now is the time to prove if she is truly the leader and Princess of Thieves. But that is not the only thing on her mind, for some of the gang are acting very strangely…

Right, now that's out of the way, let's begin with the story!

Shinosu


	2. To be or not to be

N/A: Dun dun dun! Chapter one…

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**Chapter one: To be or not to be**

Actually, the question was; to be bored or to be bored completely. In this case, the latter was most accurate.

With a sigh, Robin placed her head on her arms and closed her eyes, only to find that this didn't change her situation either. With an irritated huff she sat up again and thought about the reason she was here, all alone and bored out of her mind.

Six years ago, her father, the Lord of Locksley, had found it necessary to go on a crusade with King Richard, which, according to Robin, was the most pointless thing to do. He had left Robin with her older brother Peter, after officially appointing him 'Lord of the Manor and Keeper of thy Sister'. 13-year-old Peter had swollen with pride at those words, not caring that his sister was laughing at him.

But her laughter had since faded, for when after three years her father still hadn't returned, Peter too had departed for Jerusalem to find him. Robin hadn't heard from him since. Luckily, she wasn't entirely alone, because her servant and companion Sarah had always stayed with her. 

Though she fondly remembered her father and brother, she missed them sorely. Not in the least her father's lessons and trainings with arms and horses. Those were not skills usually possessed by maidens of stature, but because her mother had died shortly after giving birth to her, her father had raised her by himself the best he could. That a girl's upbringing did not usually include riding and swordsmanship, he did not know nor realize.

All the better for Robin, who had always been a rowdy child, being raised among her father, her brother and their friends. There never had been put high expectations on her, like being a lady, wear dresses, be beautiful. Well, not that kind of expectations anyway. Her father didn't care what she did, if she just kept getting better at swordsmanship and archery and didn't run of with the stable boy. She smiled at the thought of Duncan, the tall, thin, pale stable boy who had always been afraid of her.

'Milady, shouldn't you be getting ready to welcome the Lords? I expect they will be arriving soon.' Sarah had silently approached her, hesitant to disturb her mistress' ponderings. Now she swiftly moved the curtains, letting the sun enter the bedroom.

'I think you should wear that marvelous green dress today. It will look beautiful on you.'

Robin smiled. As always Sarah tried to persuade her to wear more feminine attire such as dresses, but to no avail. 

'Thank you for trying Sarah, but no. I'm uncomfortable enough around those men as it is, I couldn't use a dress with that as well.'

'But you always have a new excuse, Milady. Yesterday you said the humidity would make the flow of your gown ungraceful and yet it didn't rain.'

Robin tried to hide her smile under the covers, but couldn't keep a blush from creeping up to her cheeks.

'You caught me, Sarah. I'm sorry for making it up, but ever since I turned 17 two months ago you keep on pushing me to put one on. I just hate the way they feel to my skin. I have the feeling that I can't breathe or move when wearing them.' She managed to produce a slight pout.

'But because it seems to be so important to you, I'll wear one. Just for the visit of the Lords. The minute they leave, so does the gown!' 

Robin threateningly raised a finger, though she knew she'd do it anyway, even if Sarah objected. What in the world made her make this promise in the first place? She couldn't have picked a worse occasion; those men were already staring at her, wearing a gown was only going to increase that. She sighed even more at seeing Sarah's delighted face.

'All right. You can pick one, I don't care as long as it isn't pink or anything frilly. Just a normal one will do, thank you very much.' Sarah huffed insulted.

'Never would I pick anything that wouldn't compliment you, Milady. I highly resent the insinuation! Now please come out of bed, I have the perfect gown for you right here.'

With another sigh Robin heaved herself out of bed. There was no escaping it now. She was going to have to face the Lords to protect her land in a dress. And that did not sound encouraging.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It took a while for Robin to bathe, get properly dressed and get her hair acceptable. All three were things Robin often neglected or forgot, much to Sarah's dismay. Now Sarah was the one in need of a bath, for she had mercilessly washed Robin's body and hair, which had needed some serious tending to. She had been deaf for Robin's cries of pain and frustration, and hadn't been satisfied until everything was clean, neat and untangled. Luckily for Robin, it hadn't been necessary to cut of some of her hair, she liked it to be very long.

It had to be said, the result of Sarah's labor was very nice; Robin was wearing a beautiful dark green gown with long, wide sleeves and a few golden bands as it's only decoration. Robin's dark red, almost black hair was in a long braid and held out of her face by a simple golden band with a small emerald on her forehead. The stone and the dress were exactly the color of her eyes. 

Satisfied, Sarah brushed her hair back. The result was worth the work. Definitely. She was going to keep this image in her mind, forever. Like an example how nice her mistress could look when properly taken care of. Sarah felt this as a personal compliment for her efforts and was glad.

'You are ready, Milady. If you go downstairs and have the breakfast I have prepared for you, than I will watch the road for any sign of the Lords' arrival.' After saying this, Sarah bowed and left the room to go to the tower and do as she had said.

Robin had nodded as a reply, and gave herself a once over in the mirror after Sarah had left. She sighed once more, then straightened her shoulders and went downstairs to eat: she was quite hungry now.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Robin was finishing her breakfast when Sarah came thundering down the stairs and yelled: 'Milady, Milady! The Lords are arriving! There is just the two of them, hurry! You must meet them in the courtyard!!' Sarah was obviously flushed from running down the stairs and began pushing Robin frantically out of the kitchen while sweeping the breadcrumbs off of her. 

'Remember to be polite, but don't act inferior. Don't be snobbish, but remember that you are the Lady of this Manor. Be proud, but stay humble. Do you understand?!' Suddenly Sarah felt the urge to lecture her, forgetting that it was no use. She sincerely hoped for the best…

Within a few minutes two horses came cantering into the courtyard. At the sight of it, Sarah hurried away.

The two men rode their horses very proudly, sitting straight, not unnecessarily moving arms and legs. They were dressed in expensive-looking clothes, which they were without a doubt. Both men had black hair to their shoulders, but only one had a goatee, which did not quite conceal his weak chin. For the rest, they didn't stand out in any way. 

This didn't count for their horses. The horses were beautiful, with clean, shining skin and rolling muscles revealing their strength. They obviously had spirit, but still obeyed their masters' every command. Even though they looked tired now, they hadn't lost any of their majesty.

The riders halted their horses near Robin, jumped off and threw the reigns at Duncan, who quickly took the steaming horses to the stables. The men now walked up to Robin and bowed to kiss her hand. 

'It is a pleasure to see you again, Milady.'

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N/A: Ok, so that was the first chapter! Do you like, or do you hate? Please let me know by leaving a review!!! 


	3. Unpleasant ultimatum

N/A: Ok people! Chapter two, enjoy…

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**Chapter two: Unpleasant ultimatum**

'It is a pleasure to see you again, Milady.' The one with the goatee said. 'It has been far too long since your presence has graced our souls.' 

Robin accepted these flattering words with a small smile, while inwardly she needed to keep herself from gagging. She waved his words away: 'You know how time-consuming it is, Milord, to take care of an estate. I simply did not have the time to pay you a visit. But now I welcome you, George, Sheriff of Nottingham, and you, Lord Guy of Gisbourne. I am honored to welcome you to my home.' With these words she curtseyed lightly, and invited them inside.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

When they entered the hall, Sarah stood waiting to take over the men's cloaks. They barely looked at her and almost tossed her the garments. Robin frowned to herself at this, and registered it. 

A few minutes later, they made themselves comfortable in the living room, where a cozy fire was bringing warmth. Shortly after Sarah came offering a drink, they were ready to discuss. 

'It seems you are still living rather comfortably,' the Sheriff began, stroking his goatee, 'You are doing a good job at keeping this a healthy household.'

Robin bowed her head at this compliment, though wondering what he wanted to say by this remark. 'I do my best. Someone has to take care of my people. If I don't, who will?'

It looked like George ignored those last words, for he replied: 'But not good enough. I am sorry to inform you that you are in debt with the Crown. Not even to mention the church. You haven't paid your taxes for the last three months. As the Sheriff of Prince John I am here to urge you to pay, by any means necessary. Even though I am aware that you don't have the possibility to settle this…situation. But as George of Nottingham, I have a proposition for you, that could solve a your problems. Do you wish for me to explain it?' He looked at her persuasively.

Guy hadn't said anything yet, and now Robin looked at him for help. She'd expected a lot from George, but not this! Her situation was now far worse than she could ever have suspected. Looking at Guy didn't help her, for all he did was keeping his eyes cast downwards, as to avoid her gaze. Robin was speechless, had no idea how to get out of this. Finally she said, her voice hoarse: 'Please explain to me what you mean.' She wanted to ask, say and yell a lot more than that, but her voice simply refused. 

'I knew you would see it my way!' The Sheriff exclaimed with a bright smile on his face, but he became serious again immediately afterwards. 'What I propose to you is a one-time opportunity. An opportunity to get rid of your problems once and for all.' 

He moved closer to Robin and grasped her hand, as to make sure he had her complete attention. He continued: 'The way I see it, you have two choices. The first is to face your debts, and to try to pay them. You will most likely not succeed, and thus will be taken to jail. This is the least desirable choice, if you ask me. The second choice is marrying me and by doing so giving me the entire Locksley-estate. I will pay all your debts, but from then on all that is yours will be mine. What do you say? Personally, I highly prefer the latter.' 

The Sheriff looked at Robin as convincing as he possibly could, determined to finally obtain her lands. She had kept them from him long enough! Not to mention the nice bonus of being able to finally make her his. He'd been wanting to know what she felt like ever since her damned brother had left. He would not let her slip away again.

Robin was thinking top speed for a solution. There had to be a way to get out of this! In an impulse she stood up, but it seemed the two men had been expecting this, as they too rose from their seats. Almost in panic, Robin looked from the one to the other, still frantically searching for a way out.

'Well gentlemen,' she finally managed to say, 'You have caught me by surprise, with this… intriguing proposal. I feel I need some time to think about it. If you will please follow me, I will show you out.' Inwardly she hoped, no prayed they would agree, but the Lord wasn't very merciful that day.

George smiled, but it didn't stretch to his eyes. 'I'm sorry, but that will not do. I understand that you need some time to think, but this won't take more than a night. I'm sure you have some spare rooms… since you're here all alone.' He looked at her threateningly, and Robin felt all hope leaving her. But she didn't give up yet, and managed to feign a smile.

'Of course! I will ask my servant to prepare two rooms for you. But if you will excuse me from escorting you there, I feel a severe headache coming up. I think I shall retire. But not to worry, make yourselves at home and just ring for Sarah if you are hungry.' Having said this she curtseyed stiffly and quickly left the room, in search for Sarah.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Robin didn't have to look very far before stumbling on her. She looked at Sarah with so much relief, that Sarah immediately started worrying. She wanted to say something, but Robin hushed her.

'Don't say anything, but listen well. I want you to pretend nothing has happened and prepare two rooms for the Lords. When they ring for you, you are to serve them dinner.' Now Robin kept her voice down even more. 'Tonight I'm going to leave. Those men want me to do something I don't want to, and I see no other solution. Nothing will happen to you, nor to the others. They will not harm you, because it's me they're after.'

Now Sarah managed to get a word in, looking more panicked by the moment. 'I'm sure we'll be fine, but where will you go? There are no nobles left who will keep you hidden for the Sheriff. And you don't know many commoners…'

Robin smiled sadly at her. 'I haven't figured that out yet, but even if I knew, I wouldn't tell you. They will surely question you all. It's for the best that you know nothing.' She squeezed Sarah's arm reassuringly. 'Just go about your things as usual and don't worry about me. I'll send word to you as soon as I can. Don't forget what I told you earlier.' With that, she pulled Sarah into a final hug, and then left the poor confused servant standing there. 

'I won't, Milady, I won't.' Sarah whispered to her mistress' retreating back.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Once in her room, Robin fell down on her bed. She had to straighten her thoughts before being able to do something. It didn't take very long for her to settle down; she had work to do. First of all she needed to get rid of this dress and find something more comfortable to wear. She sighed deeply, and got up to change. She went to her closet and took some dark brown trousers, a green shirt, a jacket, a pair of old boots and a cloak out of it. She then carefully took off her dress and accessories and changed quickly into her just picked outfit after tying her bosom to her chest with a construction of cloth and leather belts she had devised when she was 13 and her growing breasts had started to get in the way of her movements. Now she also hoped it would make it easier to hide the fact that she was a woman.

She finally gave herself a once over in the mirror, and saw that all her efforts would be in vain, if she did not cut her hair to considerable length. She bit her lip; she had always been so proud of it, and it had taken so long for it to grow. But it had to be done. She went to her drawer and got a pair of scissors. She sighed again, and heard the snapping of the scissors.

When she was done, her hair came a little over her shoulders and she was standing in a pool of dark red hair. She bit her lip again at the sight of her reflection, but she could clearly see the improvement. Now all she had to do was make sure she got to the stables without being seen.

Robin looked out of her window, which faced the courtyard. The courtyard was square-formed. Where she was were the bedrooms, of nobility and servants alike. To her right there were the gates; the exit of the mansion. To her left were the living quarters, with the dining room and, below the ground, the kitchens. Across from her were the stables with the horses and the barn, where some of the winter stocks were already gathered, as it was half October. The only person sleeping there was Duncan, as it was his duty to keep the horses safe. 

But it was not him Robin worried about. The lights of the dining room were already lit, because it was almost half past five in the afternoon. The windows were very big, so the lights shone all over the courtyard, not making it easy to sneak one's way over to the opposite side, having to go right through the lights, or having to crouch below the windowsills. 

Robin was quite tired and hadn't figured out where she was heading yet, so she decided to get a good night's sleep and leave in the early morning. Hopefully the two men would have feasted on her precious food and wine and wouldn't be very alert, so she hoped to be able to get away in secret. She also needed to get some money, which was also easier without anyone watching.

Having decided this she packed a small bag with clean clothes and went to bed, setting her inner clock to wake her at four in the morning. It had never failed her before, and she prayed to God it would not fail her now.

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N/A: So what do you think? Am I going too slow? Next chapter should have more action in it, this was more an explanatory chapter. Please leave me a review to tell me what you think!

I just found out that the Sheriff's name is George instead of Francis. I've altered it in the chapter, so don't be surprised if you read the chapter before.


	4. Narrow escape

N/A: Ok, this is chapter three, people! There will be a bit more action, as everything is now explained.

Lea of Mirkwood: Thank you so much for reviewing!! Now I know someone actually reads this! I'm so flattered by your words, I didn't think it was that good myself. I think the way you see Robin fits well, I didn't have a clear picture of her yet. I'll try to keep her realistic, as well as the dialogs. 

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**Chapter three: Narrow escape**

It hadn't failed her this time either. Sleepily disorientated, Robin brushed her hair out of her face and was painfully reminded of yesterday's events. She lingered for a while, playing with her strange feeling hair, but got up when she remembered that the two men were still in her house. 

She quickly tied her hair back and slid the gold medallion her father had given her at his departure around her neck. She'd never done anything without it and wasn't going to break that habit now. Then she quickly put on her boots and cloak and grabbed her bag. 

Robin opened her bedroom door very slowly, to avoid the loud creaking noise it always made. She then hesitantly looked left and right, to make sure no one was there. She tiptoed out of the room and closed the door just as slowly as she had opened it. Again, Robin looked around. When it seemed the coast was clear, she made her way to her father's room, where the chest with money stood. She would have moved it to a more convenient spot, but it was too big and heavy to be moved. And it was an obvious part of the room's furniture, and she felt she would break her father's memory if she moved it. Strange, she knew it, but this was the way she felt.

Robin kneeled in front of the chest and quietly opened it. She sighed at the sight of it's content. There was only enough gold in it to keep the battered bottom hidden. She scooped up several coins, that she slid into her purse. Robin didn't want to empty the chest further, since there were more people in this mansion than she. She stood up after closing the chest again and tied the purse around her waist, under her clothing. She looked around the room one last time, and left it.

Now came the hard part. To get past the two guest rooms and down the stairs. Robin figured it had to be done quickly, as to give the men less time to wake up and catch her. She took a deep breath and held it all the way as she tiptoed yet again past the rooms. Letting go of her breath at the top of the stairs, she looked around once more. Then she went down the stairs, trying to remember which steps creaked or were loose. 

Robin was near euphoric and had to keep herself from screaming when she reached the ground floor without making more than the shuffling sound of her feet. Restraining herself from running, she left the building, and practically ran for the stables. She desperately hoped no one was looking out their window.

When Robin got to the stables, she immediately saw Duncan, asleep on a bale of hay and a horse blanket. She crouched beside him and shook his arm. He awoke quickly, and Robin had to put a hand over his mouth to keep him from shouting. 

'Shh, it's me, Robin,' she whispered, 'I'm going away on my horse, and I need you to get me some food from the storage next door. Silence goes above all, if it makes to much noise, leave it. Put it in these saddlebags.' She thrust a pair of bags in his arms. 'Now go!'

Duncan nodded dumbfounded and silently left the stables, while Robin made her way to her horse. 

'Pilgrim,' she called the dark brown mare, 'come dear, we have to go.' As the horse woke up, Robin thought about her. She had been a gift from her brother when he left, and Robin had long since stopped wondering why on earth a mare would be called 'Pilgrim'. But the horse had never responded to anything else, so Pilgrim it was. 

The stable door squeaked a little, but not enough to worry her. She led the horse to where the saddles and such were hung, and readied her horse after shutting it up by giving it some food. During the process, Duncan returned with the bags. When Robin was finished with Pilgrim, she took the bags and fastened them behind the saddle. They were now at the exit of the stables and Robin turned to Duncan.

'Thank you, my friend, for helping me out. Here, this is for your efforts.' Robin said, giving Duncan a gold coin. 'And what I do now is for your own good.' 

With that she hit him square on the head with a bucket, and he passed out.

'I'm sorry.'

Pilgrim wasn't happy. She wasn't done sleeping yet and now she had to wait for her mistress to finish up with whatever she was doing. Pilgrim decided to draw Robin's attention again.

'WHIIIIIINNNEYYYYY!!!!!!' 

Robin jumped up three feet into the air and turned to shut Pilgrim up, but the damage was done. She heard the sound of a swearing man come from the house, and wasted no more time. She quickly mounted the mare and heard her name being shouted. 

The Sheriff hung far out of his window, his face red with fury.

'You will not get away from me! I will find you if it's the last thing I do!!' He yelled at her, as his nightcap fell down. 

But Robin hadn't waited, she was already riding in a wild gallop, increasing the distance between her and the mansion with every passing second.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

The first hour Robin was riding, she didn't think about anything. She just let the bliss of freedom wash over her. The sound of Pilgrim's breath. The feel of the horse below her. The wind through her hair. She even stopped a while to look at the beautiful sunrise. 

Robin still stood there when she felt a chilly wind sweep over her that broke the moment. She then remembered that she was most likely being chased and cursed at herself for getting all caught up in a sunrise. But as she motioned Pilgrim into a gallop once more, she realized she had no idea where to go. This didn't stop her though, because the longer she rode, the further she got away from her hunters. 

She continued to ride for the rest of the day, only making a brief stop to eat something and give her horse a rest. When the night fell, she had passed several villages and was miles away from home. She'd been very tired that night, and had just fallen asleep without making any arrangements for the morning. Which resulted in her waking up in broad daylight, having lost precious time and losing more of it when she had to do some preparations she had neglected the day before. 

This was a really harsh lesson, and Robin could almost kill herself for being this stupid. When she was finally ready to leave again, the day was nearing noon. After mounting Pilgrim she glanced over her shoulder, and almost fell off again by what she saw. 

There was a group of six riders in her pursuit. Two of them she knew; they were the Sheriff and Guy of Gisbourne. The other four were no doubt soldiers, judging by their armor. The party must have rode without stopping, probably switching horses in every village, where the Lords had no doubt picked up the soldiers. 

There was no time to be wasted, and Robin needed an escape route, fast. As she kicked her horse into speed, she looked around, desperate to find a way. She then saw, it the far north-east, the borders of Sherwood Forest. She immediately went for it, trying hard not to think of the stories that went around about it. 

Sherwood Forest was said to be haunted. The story went that a long time ago, a group of criminals had been caught there and had been hanged on the spot, without a trial. The criminals hadn't wanted to leave this world without revenge on the people who had hanged them. Their spirits had found every last one of the murderers and killed them. But the spirits had chosen to remain here, and the passage to heaven was closed to them. They had returned to Sherwood Forest, to haunt it forevermore. It was said that whoever entered it, were never seen again. Most people believed the story, and mothers everywhere threatened their naughty children with it.

But Robin didn't have the time to hesitate, she'd rather take her chances with the ghosts than with the Sheriff's inevitable wrath. She looked over her shoulder once more, and saw that her pursuers had come closer. With a last kick and some encouraging words, she inspired Pilgrim to one last sprint to the trees.

Thanks to that last effort Robin made it to the Forest just before the Sheriff did. All his companions made a sudden stop, almost thirty feet from the trees.

'Why are you stopping?!' George spat at them, even though he didn't continue either.

'There's no way we enterin' that forest, Milord. Tis haunted!' One of his bolder men assured him.

The Sheriff rolled his eyes, but still didn't move. He then yelled to the Forest:

'I will not forget this, you wench! Be sure to never leave this place for I will catch you and I will not be merciful!!' Not able to cool his anger in any other way, he growled and motioned his men to follow him. The dratted woman had gotten away again, but now it would be no more Mr. Nice Guy. He'd hunt her down like a dog until she was his. And then she would pay. At that thought his anger disappeared and he smiled evilly to himself.

'Oh yes, she will pay.'

At the same time Robin sped through the Forest, his shouts still ringing in her ears. She'd gotten away for now, and her worries placed themselves on the Forest. By God, she hoped the stories weren't true. She didn't feel like meeting up with ghosts just yet. Thinking this she got deeper and deeper into the Forest.

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N/A: Ok, that's it for this chapter. The first part was hell to write, I hope it didn't turn out that bad. I also have no idea how you write down horse sounds, so I just did something. Don't pay any attention to that.

See you all in chapter four!


	5. Meeting the ghosts

N/A: Welcome to chapter four! Some new characters will be introduced in this chapter and the plot will thicken a bit, I think.

Pocket Jericho: First of all, thanks so much for reviewing! It really gave me the final push to finish this chapter. Second, thank you for the compliment, now I've heard from a second opinion that my writing's acceptable.

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**Chapter four: Meeting the ghosts**

'Please Pilgrim, it's not that scary here.' Robin said to her horse, although she was actually trying to soothe her own nerves. Even though they had fled into the Forest at great speed, they were only moving very slowly now. Robin had to drag a very reluctant Pilgrim along, who all of a sudden seemed completely exhausted. Robin had tried almost everything to get the mare to move faster, but nothing worked. That the eerie trees were looming over her shoulders wasn't a big help either. She had to restrain herself from running back the way she had come, knowing that leaving the Forest already wasn't an option. 

They halted again for a moment, and Robin decided she might as well grab something to eat while they weren't rushing anyway. While she was getting some bread from the saddlebags she had another idea. She also took a piece of corn from the bag and held it in front of Pilgrims nose. The mare eagerly tried to eat the corn, and Robin felt she had finally found something that might work. Making sure Pilgrim couldn't reach the corn, she lured the horse along the narrow trail that lead deeper into the woods. 

The further they went, the more the trail disappeared and Robin had to be very careful not to lose it. Suddenly, they came to a clearing, and all of Robin's fears for the Forest melted away in the sunlight, which shone down freely on everything in sight. She let the sunlight play over her closed eyes for a while, then placed her thoughts on the situation at hand. She had heard far off water sounds ever since they had entered the Forest and now Robin could see why. The river that ran through the Forest widened drastically in this clearing, as normally one could jump over it but now it seemed one had to swim their way across. 

Robin groaned lightly and tied Pilgrim to a nearby branch to avoid being followed. She walked to the water to inspect it's depth, because one way or another, she had to get to the other side. Preferably a dry way of course. Standing closer to the water, Robin smiled. It seemed that while the river had greatly expanded in wideness, it had had to give in on it's depth. She could clearly see the pebbles and rocks on the bottom of it, and the small waterfalls were nothing to be worried about. After sticking her sword in the water at several places, she found that it wouldn't be hard to cross the river with all the ankle-deep spots it had. The only trick would be to not accidentally step in a deeper part. Robin's eyes scanned the river for a possible path and when she found one clear enough for Pilgrim to pass over it too, she turned to go back to her horse. 

At that moment several yells and shouts came from the trees all around her, as a previously hidden rope emerged from the water, tripping her. Now a few loud laughs came from her surroundings. Robin struggled to get up when a single voice echoed through the air.

'There was a rich man from Nottingham, who tried to cross the river. Oh, what a dope, he tripped on a rope! Now look at him shiver.'

Robin wheeled around trying to see where the voices came from, when a group of men, scattered in the trees, came in sight. They were poor- and scruffy-looking, not soldiers or anything higher in rank. They obviously didn't see she was a woman, for the man who had previously sung the song said, pointing a stick at her from afar:

'Beg for mercy, rich man.'

At this, Robin's pride came up, making her angry. 

'I beg of no man!' She answered, angrily pushing her hair out of her face. Luckily she hadn't become wet enough for her clothes to stick to her body, for which she was grateful because now they still thought she was a man. There had been laughs at her answer, only infuriating her more. But she kept a straight face, as there was no use in giving them the joy of seeing her angry. 

One of the men, obviously the leader had come to stand in front of her. He was very tall and broad shouldered, and had bushy brown hair and an equally bushy beard. His clothes and improvised cloak mostly consisted of torn rags sewn together. He also pointed a thick, long wooden stick at her. It was actually more like a staff when she took a second glance. The man was smirking cockily at her.

'I suggest ya keep it down a bit, seein' as ya're all alone. This 'ere's our river and anyone who wishes to cross it, must pay a tax.'

Robin paled slightly, not out of fear but out of anger. They didn't have any authority to do this! She would certainly not give in that easy.

'I have nothing.' She replied, bowing her head.

'Now tha's a load a crap, mister,' The man smirked at her again, 'Ya might not have any coin on ya, but we'll settle on tha gold medallion o' yours.' He eyed the necklace eagerly and reached for it with his stick. Robin jerked her head back, pulling the medallion out of his reach and looked at him angrily.

'This is sacred to me.' The man laughed.

'It's sacred to us too, mate. That there'll feed us for a bloody month.' Robin cocked an eyebrow.

'Then you'll have to fight me for it.'

'Love to, mate!' The man answered, and tossed her a stick given to him by one of his men. 

She hadn't expected to be fighting with a stick instead of a sword, but there was no time to waste because the man was already directing his first blow at her. She barely had the time to counter his attack, and was rewarded with very painful knuckles. The gathered crowd was laughing as Robin blew on her sore hand. She glared at the man and wasted no time to attack him. It took her a while to get accustomed to the weapon, but once she had, she found she was quite good at it. 

The man hadn't expected her to counter him that well, and was forced to add a bit more speed and ferocity to his blows. He figured that increasing the strength behind his attacks would work in his advantage, even though he would lose some of his agility. He had noticed that the man he was fighting was nothing more than a boy, since the lad didn't have any facial hair, a slender build and a bit of a high-pitched voice. But before he got the time to wonder why on earth the boy was traveling all alone, he had to focus his entire being on winning this fight. The lad had almost surprised him with unexpected agility and speed. But not a second time, he vowed to himself, he would not lose this fight!

Robin had noticed the growing difficulty with which she could counter the man's blows. She had been able to cope earlier, but the man was a lot stronger than her and she was tiring. With a sword she would have been able to compensate with her talent, but the stick was a much larger and heavier weapon and it didn't allow her to make any difficult moves. She needed to end this battle and fast, or else she would surely lose. Not only her precious medallion, but also her pride and dignity. 

In her haste to end the battle, she decided to create a an opening for herself. It would be risky, but it was needed. 

She waited for him to attack once again and quickly squared him. She then ran her stick against his, so that both arms were directed sharply to the other side, leaving both opponents' sides unprotected. She quickly tried to push him of balance, but he beat her to it. 

While fighting they had moved near a small waterfall, and with one good nudge in the back, the man knocked her over the edge. The crowd cheered for the victor, who accepted it with a bow. He then turned to look at his fallen opponent. The smile on the man's face faded and his brow furrowed when he saw nothing in the water. He could swear he'd seen the boy take a tumble down the waterfall, but there was nothing to be seen. He cautiously walked down several steps while poking his stick in the water, looking for the lad. When he still found nothing, he again turned to his friends. 

'It's a bloody shame tha' medallion's gone. Besides, he was a brave lad.' 

After falling down the waterfall Robin had casually slid under water, only to come up again behind the boulder her opponent now stood on. She was still clutching the stick, and when the man turned to speak to his friends again, she stuck it between his legs and pulled up fast. She smiled when hearing the satisfying groan the man uttered when he fell backwards over her head. Before giving him the time to get to his feet, Robin grabbed hold of his collar and pushed his head under water. After a few seconds she pulled him up again, and asked:

'Do you yield?' The man gasped for air.

'I can't bloody swim!'

As this wasn't the answer Robin was looking for, she repeated her actions.

'Do you yield?!' This time the man knew what to say.

'YES!!' Robin smiled in victory.

'Good, now put your feet down.'

Without a word the man struggled to his feet, only to find that the water merely came to his thighs. He started to laugh, and said:

'I'll be buggered.'

His friends were laughing as well, now understanding the trick the lad had pulled. As the man reached down to pull his opponent up, he shook his hair out of his face, smiled and said:

'John Little, Best Man of the woods.' Also smiling, Robin took his hand.

'Robin of Locksley.'

John swiftly pulled her up, but as she stood, his smile faded and the men around them quieted. At first Robin didn't see why, but then glanced down at her wet clothes. They now clung to her like a second skin, revealing every shape about her that was unmanly. She winced as she pushed her now loose hair out of her face, making her look even more feminine. She smiled weakly at John, expecting the worst. As the man opened his mouth to say something, one of the others beat him to it.

'It's a bloody lass!' 

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N/A: I know the fighting scene is terribly unoriginal, but it's my favorite part of the entire film and I couldn't just leave it out or replace it with a crappy idea of my own. I like how it turned out though. Sorry this chapter took so long, but I had a lot of trouble writing the fighting scene and the dialogs. I just have to practice, right? See you all in chapter five!


	6. Outlaws

N/A: In this chapter we will get to know more about John Little and his gang, and more will be revealed of the plot, since that didn't really happen last time. I'm really sorry I left you guys hanging for so long. But my exams have turned out great and I needed my Christmas break to recuperate from the eventful first semester of fourth year the load of work they give us has very much increased. Thank you so much to the people who have reviewed thus far, and no, Robin's no kin to Will Scarlet.**

* * *

****Chapter five: Outlaws**

'It's a bloody lass!'

It was yet again the annoying singer who spoke. It seemed that he usually voiced what the others thought, since they were all staring at her the exact same way. Now the man had stated the obvious, no one really knew what to say. Robin was trying to cover up her uneasiness by tugging her sopping clothes from her body, meaning that they were now stretched and mangled beyond recognition. Still the men kept silent. Then she couldn't take it anymore, feeling colder by the second.

'Well,' she started, hesitating, 'I guess I don't have to give you my medallion anymore, do I? I mean, you did yield to me…'

She looked at them, still fingering her clothes nervously. Apparently, some of the group found this scene very funny, because sounds of laughter were erupting everywhere. Obviously, Robin's remark about beating their leader had broken the ice. Of course it was a funny sight: A very tall, broad man beaten by a much smaller girl, both soaking wet and freezing cold at the moment.

When the laughter subsided, John and Robin had an identical pair of grins plastered on their faces. John then motioned for her to follow him and said:

'We'll be discussin' that at our camp. Don't worry about yer horse, she'll be taken care of. And I think we need the same thing.' Robin nodded in reply, and moved to follow him.

Robin made sure she kept up her pace, wanting to avoid walking in the midst of the men. Yet, she had a lot of questions, and sped up to walk next to John, who was walking several feet in front of the group. The seven-foot-tall man took gigantic strides, and Robin, with her meager 5'7", almost had to jog to keep up with him.

'Your camp?' Robin blurted out, 'you mean you live here? Or are you just traveling through the Forest?'

John shook his head, but kept looking straight forward.

'We live here.'

'Why?' Robin asked again, her eyes quickly shifting between the man's face and the path she was supposed to walk. She noticed John's face harden, and almost gave up when he answered.

'Look, we still have a bit o' travelin' to do, and yer gonna need yer breath. Don't go wastin' it on a conversation we can have at the camp. We're not gonna slow down just for you.'

He glanced at her sideways, and took away the seriousness from his words with a smirk. He then gave her a pat on the shoulder, and almost sent her tumbling into the surrounding trees.

* * *

The blue sky was turning purple when the group finally arrived at the camp. They had been traveling for almost three hours, going on and off the path until Robin wasn't quite sure anymore where they were heading, where they were or even where they came from. They had even stumbled on the main road through the Forest once, but it would have been foolish to stay there so the group left it again soon. John hadn't said too much with his remark about needing her breath, because even though she had walked this long before, she wasn't used to this speed nor to the uneven forest ground with its plants and roots to look out for. Naturally, Robin was glad to have finally reached their destination.

The camp was actually nothing more than a clearing in the Forest, where the surrounding trees were not as closely planted as in other areas. In the middle of the clearing was a fireplace, currently not more than a circle of rocks and a pile of ash. Scattered around it lay a couple of bags and cloaks, while the man supposed to be guarding them was sound asleep under one of the makeshift shelters made at the base of the nearest trees.

While everyone was making themselves comfortable, John spotted the sleeping guard and crept over to him. This actually wasn't necessary, since he didn't even wake up from the racket Pilgrim created stepping onto dry twigs and leaves. John gently shook him awake.

'Notch…' The man didn't react.

'Notch…'

'…'

'NOTCH!'

'OH SWEET MOTHER O- hey John! You back already? I was just takin' a small break, nothin' big. I-'

'Nothin' big! You were asleep as a bear in winter! What were ya gonna do if they'd come to steal our stuff? Snore at 'em!'

The startled man tried to look offended.

'I'll have you know I watched those bloody packs for over three days! Can I help it that I need a lot o' sleep?' Notch scrambled to his feet, shaking the dirt from his clothes.

'I really hope you brought home somethin'. I'm starvin'.' He looked around eagerly, scanning the group for any sign of food.

John, already forgetting he was supposed to be angry with Notch, slapped him on the shoulder.

'We brought somethin' alright. Not really what ye were hopin' for, but it's somethin'. We're all beat, so the sooner you get a fire goin', the sooner you'll know what we did the past three days.'

Knowing he couldn't get John to say more, Notch made his way to the fireplace, careful not to step on his tired friends lying everywhere. Despite the trees surrounding the campsite, there was quite a firm wind blowing. As Notch wasn't exceptionally skilled in fire-making, he needed all his concentration to get a proper one started. Thus, he didn't notice the unknown girl rubbing her sore feet a little further away.

By the time Notch had made a decent fire, John and a couple of others had gathered and prepared all the food that was left and everybody joined around the fire. The sky was turning ever more purple it was getting colder. When everyone was sitting comfortably, John looked at Notch and began to speak.

'Notch, I told ye we'd brought somethin' with us, well, rather someone. I'd like ye to meet Lady Robin of Locksley.' He gestured at Robin.

Notch looked back and forth between John and Robin, absolutely flabbergasted. At his lack of reply, Robin felt uneasiness take over her.

'Well,' she started, 'nice to meet you, Notch, and please just call me Robin.' She looked around at the others. 'All of you.'

Again she was met by silence. In a last attempt to start a conversation, she hopefully looked at John.

'So, you said you'd tell me why you lived here. This can't possibly me more comfortable than your homes.'

John sighed. 'Ye'r right. I'll tell ye. Ever since King Richard left on that damned crusade of his, Prince John's been starvin' us. Slowly, but starvin' nonetheless. He's too much of a coward to face the consequences o' what he does, so he lets his pet, the Sheriff of Nottingham, do it for him. For three years he's been suckin' us dry, and a few months ago we couldn't take it anymore. So we started poachin'. But because o' that nasty son of a- sorry, evil man, poachin' is rewarded the death penalty. We didn't feel like dyin', so we hid here. Now we've all got prizes on our heads.'

Anger began to stir inside Robin when John concluded his story. Anger and guilt. Why hadn't she known George was doing this? Had she been so absorbed in her own petty issues? But she didn't voice her guilt. Instead, she pointed out something else.

'But what about your families? Now that their husbands, fathers and brothers are gone, who will care for them? Have you thought of that?'

This enraged John. 'Don't you think we've thought about tha'! What would ya have us do? We're not a great help to them either when we get hanged on Nottingham square!'

He had started pacing around angrily while the others looked at her resentfully.

'You could always fight back…' Robin murmured, tossing the pebble she'd been playing with in the fire. There was a brief silence, and John's anger subsided just as fast as it had erupted. He sat down again and looked at her in earnest.

'Of course we've considered that, but it'd be suicide. We're all good lads, but we're farmers. We're no match for Nottingham's well-trained soldiers. No, we're better of in hiding. We give what we find and can spare to our families. There's nothin' else we can do. Here we're safe. Look around you. This is all we common folk can wish for. Here, we are kings.' With these as his final words he moved his arm as if to reveal to her the trees, the stars and the moon.

Again there was a silence, and Robin was lost in thought for a while. The men had started talking amongst themselves, passing leather beer bags around. Their mood was growing a little more cheerful and relaxed. Suddenly Robin said to John in a clear voice:

'I would really appreciate it if I could stay here with you for a while. My situation is the same as yours and unfortunately I have nowhere else to go. I am an outlaw, just like you.'

Before John could even reply, a young man stood up. Robin recognized him as the one who had sung the song when she had tripped over the rope.

'You are nothin like us!' He spat at her, pushing angrily past everyone and heading towards the shelter farthest away from the fire.

Astonished, Robin looked at his angry, retreating back. The nice, calm atmosphere had disappeared. She looked at John questioningly. He merely shrugged.

'That there's Will Scarlet.' He said, jerking his head in the direction the man had left. 'Don't mind 'im, he's got an issue with the nobles. It's nothin' personal. Of course you can stay with us. You can sleep by the fire tonight and we'll make ya a shelter in the mornin'. Don't worry about anythin', I'll watch out for ya.' John smiled reassuringly and stood up.

'I don't know about you people, but I'm goin' to bed. See y'all tomorrow.' He nodded at everyone and went to his shelter. Not long afterwards the rest had gone as well, leaving Robin alone next to the dying fire. Some of them had wished her goodnight. Robin made herself comfortable, making sure every inch of her body was covered with the cloak John had given her. She was very thankful for the dry clothes she had received, quite a number of the men had contributed. She was happy she had met these men, because now she wasn't alone anymore. But the sleep wouldn't come. She thought about everything she had heard tonight, and found there had to be a way to make things better for these men and their families. Because even though she knew she shouldn't, she felt guilty. Guilty that she had not once considered the difficulties commoners had to endure, and that these difficulties made her own troubles seem trivial. She vowed she would do everything in her power to help them.

As she had now found a way to ease her guilt, she soon fell asleep. Entirely unaware of a pair of eyes glaring at her from the dark.

* * *

N/A: Sooo, what do you think? People who have seen the film will have noticed that I follow the basic lines of the story, sometimes even directly quoting a sentence here and there. But I assure you that the deeper thoughts of the people will be different, and entirely from my imagination. 

Well, what do you think of the interaction between the group and Robin? Realistic or not? And what about Will? Believable? Please let me know with a review!


	7. A smelly scheme

N/A: There is a church-scene in this chapter, but since I have never been in a church I don't really know how such a mass thing works. I certainly don't want to offend any religious people here, so if there's anything wrong with it, don't pay any attention to it. I'll probably always stay ignorant about religion.

Nightshade Darkholme: Thank you so much for reviewing! No, I don't mind the long review. ^_^ Thanks for your suggestions, I also thought it was a pity that Gisbourne died so early in the film. I intend to keep him around a bit longer. I'm not going to say anything yet about the future relationship Robin and Will will have, because I haven't figured that out yet myself. Your views on the story really have given me some new ideas!

Thanks also to the other reviewers, you make me want to continue when I have a writer's block!

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**Chapter six: A smelly scheme**

A beautiful autumn sun greeted Robin the following morning. The sound of the men moving around and getting up woke her completely from the first deep, blissful sleep in three days. Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. She then looked in awe at the energetic way everyone was doing their chores. She personally wasn't that much of a morning-person. She was in the middle of a nice big yawn when she heard a soft chuckle. Robin immediately opened her eyes again and ceased the morning stretch that always accompanied a yawn. Slightly blushing, she bowed her head and looked at the other through her eyelashes. 

The man who had chuckled was nothing but a boy actually, not much older than she was. He was tall though, and broad shouldered. He had unruly, curly, dark brown hair and equally brown eyes. Overall, his friendly face reminded her of someone else. He was now grinning broadly, allowing her a full view of his even, fairly white teeth. 

'Good mornin'! Would ya like some soup?' He greeted her, offering a bowl filled to the brim with hot, nice smelling soup. Robin now realized she was indeed hungry, and gratefully accepted the bowl. While she was drinking, the boy sat down in front of her.

'They're gettin' ready to raid a food transport that's arrivin' in Nottingham today. We're runnin' low on our supplies again. I'm Wulf Little by the way.'

Robin quickly gulped down the last of the soup and answered: 'Wulf Little? I thought you looked familiar. John's your father.'

The boy merely nodded.

'So you're going to Nottingham. Would you mind if I came with? I have a few things to do there.' 

Wulf hesitated. 'I think ye best ask my father. He usually makes the decisions.'

Robin nodded and got up, handing the bowl back to Wulf. 'I'll go ask him right away. Thanks for the breakfast.'

'No problem.' Wulf smiled. That girl seemed nice enough. A bit awkward, but nice enough.

Before Robin went to see John, she decided to check whether or not her clothes had dried yet and to pay Pilgrim a visit. She was quite pleased to find that her clothes were dry and exactly the way she had left them. She then took them behind a bush and changed quickly. She decided to wash and return the other clothes to their owners later. Now on to Pilgrim. It pleased Robin even more to see that Pilgrim had been magnificently taken care of the night before and had been supplied with a highly sufficient amount of hay. No wonder the horse greeted her happily. After making sure Pilgrim and her equipment were in perfect shape, Robin went to find John. 

It didn't take long to locate the man, since it was near impossible to overlook him. He was giving his men some last minute instructions about how to tackle the food transport. Robin waited patiently for him to finish. 

'…It's _really_ important that ye take the guard with the horn out first. If he's allowed to blow it, there'll be hell to pay. Is that clear? Good, be ready to leave in a few moments.' At these words the men scurried off to finish their preparations, and John turned to Robin. 'What can I do for ye, Robin?'

'I was wondering if I could come with. I have some things to take care of in Nottingham.' She looked at him hopefully. 'I know how important this raid is, Wulf told me. Please, I won't mess things up. And if I get caught, I never met you.' Robin kept on rambling, anything to stop him from saying no.

John started laughing. 'Calm down, Robin. I'm not gonna forbid ye to come. Yer old enough to decide for yerself. Just be extremely careful and make sure ye get back here safely. We're not gonna build ye a shelter for nothin'.'

Robin smiled broadly and opened her mouth to say thanks, but John interrupted her. 'Now get a move on, or you'll be late. I don't want you delaying our plans.' Robin immediately left to ready Pilgrim, and only waved her hand over her head when John shouted: 'And be back before sundown!'

Robin was too busy saddling Pilgrim as fast as possible to notice a pair of eyes looking angrily at her. The man those burning eyes belonged to was perfectly calm on the outside, but was inwardly hot with rage. How could John?! How could he have allowed her to come with them. She would endanger the entire mission. But no, of course he didn't see it. She had him wrapped around her little finger. And his son as well. Why was he the only one who saw her for what she really was? She was nothing but a stuck up brat, all high and mighty because of her 'nobility'. But they would find out sooner or later. And then they'd see who had been right all along. With a final angry tug he fastened his saddlebags, and went to meet his companions. One thing he knew for sure; he would be glad when she was gone.

Robin rushed to meet the others who were saying their goodbyes to the ones that stayed behind. Pleasantries were exchanged and good luck was wished. While Robin was moving her horse to stand in line with the others, Wulf walked up to her.  

'So you've succeeded in convincin' my father. Well done.'

Robin smiled. 'Thanks. It was easier than I expected. I see you aren't coming.'

Wulf shook his head. 'No, I'm not. We don't have many horses, so we have to send our best men on this sort o' mission. Unfortunately, I'm not one of them.' He shrugged. 'Frankly, I don't care. Now, you want to get to Nottingham right? This group isn't actually goin' there, but you can ride with 'em until you come to the first village outside the Forest. They're gonna stop near it and ambush the transport. You have to continue on that same road until you reach Nottingham. Can't miss.' He assured her. 'Just don't stray from the road. When yer done with whatever yer gonna do, just backtrack all the way into the Forest. We'll be waitin' for ya.' He smiled at her again.

Robin returned his smile. 'Thanks Wulf, I'll be back in no time.' She didn't have time to say anything else, as the rest of the gang was already leaving the clearing. She directed Pilgrim to follow them and started devising a plan on how to get in and out of Nottingham unrecognized.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

By the time the gang reached the village where the ambush was to be set up, Robin had come up with a plan quite satisfactory. Because not being recognized was the main issue, she needed a rather repellant disguise. The most repellant one she'd been able to come up with –and that would not result in her being thrown out of the city-  was that of a filthy, stinking beggar needing a stick to walk. It wasn't that hard to create either. All she needed was a large, hooded cloak, a stick and some horse manure as a finishing touch. Having solved this problem, she told the others not to wait for her return. She then made Pilgrim quicken her pace and set off towards the city of Nottingham.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

It took Robin another hour to reach the city walls. She halted Pilgrim in the shade of a small group of trees that stood out of direct vision from the main gate, and with that, the guards. There, she made her disguise, rubbing the cloak with manure until the stench was almost unbearable. When she was done, she tied Pilgrim's rains securely to one of the trees and told the mare to stay there quietly. To make sure she did, Robin left a large bag with corn with her that she had stolen on her way to the city. Robin didn't realize it, but she was already getting pretty good at casually 'borrowing' and the likes. 

Walking closely to the wall, Robin neared the main gate. When the guards could almost see her, she sighed deeply and pulled the cloak more closely around her. Now came the ultimate test, to see if her disguise did what it was supposed to. 

When she stepped in the guards' full view, she was no longer a young, agile woman. She was now a hunchbacked, cripple, old hag with a walking stick. Robin could hear the men gasp when the foul stench met them, and she could almost feel their disgusted looks burning her. When they realized she wanted to get into the city, they moved to block the entrance. 

Bad luck, Robin thought, she had hoped they wouldn't bother with her. As she moved to stand directly in front of them, she searched for something to say that wouldn't alarm them. She thought it was best to play ignorant.

''Ello sirs,' Robin said with a screechy, annoying voice, 'sorry to be botherin' ye, but I need to get in.' The guards immediately looked annoyed and one of them answered her.

'Oh yeah, and why's that, ye filthy beggar? We got enough of ye in there already, I doubt ye'll be getting' much.' His companion snickered at the remark. 

This was not good, she simply _had_ to get in there! It was time for more drastic measures. Robin smiled inwardly, and went for it. She'd always loved acting. 

She moved closer to one of the men and clung to his vest. She held on even harder when he recoiled and tried to shake her off.

'Oh please, sirs. Ye can't mean tha'! I need to visit me sister, she's ill! If I don't come, she'll die!' She practically screamed that last sentence in the poor guard's ear. They were now severely annoyed and wanted to get rid of her. They knew she'd come back if they kept denying her passage, so the only thing to do was to let her in. The didn't give that much about the city and besides, one more beggar wouldn't be noticed. 

While their slow brains finished this train of thought, Robin was getting increasingly nervous again. She almost wanted to leave and try again when the guards had switched, when the brightest of the two spoke.

'All right, all right! Stop naggin' our bloody head off! Get in if ye really want to, but be sure to be kicked out if they catch ye beggin'. Now get outta here, yer stench is killin' me!' Having said that, he shoved her off of him through the entrance.

Robin stumbled theatrically, but was inwardly immensely relieved and happy. But now on to business. She looked at the church, and she was pleased to see that the mass wasn't finished yet. But she could have counted on that, since Sunday masses were usually longer than those on other days. 

Using the cripple, stick-using walk again, Robin made her way to the church, the plan now fully formed in her head. She opened the heavy doors as if it was the most normal thing to do, entering in the middle of a Sunday mass, and went in. She really hoped her plan would come together.

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N/A: Entering the new setting of the city was fun to write, it gave me some fresh words to use. I mean that if I stay in one location for to long, I have to search for too many synonyms to write down the same scenery. Synonyms are important to me, because without them the story becomes awfully boring and seems to repeat itself. I hope you enjoyed it, I certainly did. Next chapter will probably have some action in it, and a major part of Robin's plan of action will be revealed, obviously. 

Sorry it takes me so long to post a new chapter, but you wouldn't want me to fail miserably this school year, right? (please say right…) Anyhoo, see you all next time!


	8. Devious plotting

A/N: Hello again, sorry it took so long! But your waiting is rewarded; George's plan is entirely revealed, along with some character-defining emotions and thoughts of others. I felt I needed to show how the others were faring, even I myself don't entirely know. Most of the story is formed while writing, I don't really have everything planned out for the it. I'm glad the plot still comes to me, I haven't experienced a major writer's block yet. I hope it never happens.

Now on to the story, if you've even read my rambling this far. ^^;

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**Chapter seven: Devious plotting**

If there was one thing George of Nottingham hated, it was a Sunday. Most particularly a Sunday without an excuse for absence in church. He had already conveniently explained his not attending weekday masses by blaming his busy schedule, but he could only skip so many Sundays without rising suspicion. George didn't believe in God, as he had been raised by a witch who herself didn't care for any kind of religion. Despite all nonsense said about him, this rumor was true. Because of this rather awkward upbringing, George couldn't help but having a quite unstable mind. But he didn't question his sanity, nor did he allow anyone else to. 

When George awoke that day, he figured this was the day he would always keep in mind as one of the worst in his life. First of all, it was a Sunday. Second, there was no way he could avoid going to church. And third, he had no idea how to settle the score with the wretched Locksley girl, let alone capture her. He had just managed to drag himself out of bed and into his clothes (he didn't feel like bathing at all), when someone knocked on his door. 

'Go away!' He growled, 'I am in no mood for heel-licking, problem-pointing, head-nagging or any other kind of annoyance. Especially not this early in the morning!' He added, shouting angrily.

The person on the other side of the door was quiet for a while. Then slowly the door creaked open. Luckily for George it wasn't his clerk, who was the usual provider of that kind of agony. Instead it was his cousin, Guy of Gisbourne, who entered the room with caution. 

'I see there's no use in bidding you a good morning.' He started carefully. 'I'm glad to see you're up. It wouldn't be wise to miss today's sermon.'

George's anger flared up again. 'Checking up on me, are you? Do I need to remind you that the only reason you're living your life as comfortably as you are is because I let you. Don't make me change my mind.' 

Guy wisely remained silent. His cousin was not to be meddled with. It was his luck that he could read him fairly well, since George's moods were subject to often and sudden change. This had surely helped him when he'd been in a tight spot a few years ago. He'd made a stupid mistake and had needed his cousin's help to sort it out. Since then, George never ceased to remind him that he was in his debt, and probably always would be. 

Guy decided to let the remark slide, again. Instead he focused on the task at hand; making sure George attended the mass. As much as he had needed his cousin once, that same cousin presently needed him just as bad. If only to avoid a revolt under the people.

'Come on George', he sighed, 'you know you have to do this. There's no point in fighting the inevitable. You have enough time to have a proper breakfast before we leave.' 

Surprisingly, George just nodded and left the bedroom. Shaking his head, Guy merely followed.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Sarah pulled on the cloak with fidgety, clumsy fingers. She'd been this way ever since Robin had left two days ago. She was out of her mind with worry, especially after seeing the flaming rage in the Sheriff when he had realized his prey was escaping him. Sarah hadn't heard anything ever since, and so assumed that Robin had got away. To take her mind of the matter, she had taken up the reign over Locksley Castle, and intended to govern it until her lady's return. She would not shame the faith Robin had placed in her. 

Her mistress had also told her to go about her things as usual, and as such she was getting ready to go to church in Nottingham as they did every Sunday. Normally it was just Sarah and Robin who went there, but now Robin was absent, Sarah decided to take Duncan with her. The boy would enjoy an outing.

Locksley Castle wasn't far from Nottingham, only a two-hour ride in a calm gallop. It was situated North-West of the city, and a two-day ride West of Sherwood Forest. For Locksley Castle, Nottingham and the surrounding estates, the main road through the Forest was the fastest route to London. Even though travelers didn't like having to go through the haunted Forest, it was much faster than going around it. 

Considering it took a while to get to the city, Sarah and Duncan left as early as possible. Sarah was glad Duncan's head didn't hurt him so much anymore. That was the only thing she disapproved of in Robin's escape; had she really had to hit the poor boy with a bucket that hard?

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

'Really cousin, you'd say by the look on your face that you've lost the very love of your life two days ago. Was she really that important to you?' Guy was surprised. He'd never have thought George to actually love the girl, but judging by the look of him he was still very annoyed by the fact that she had escaped him.

George looked up furiously from his hastily cooked breakfast. 'What on earth gave you _that_ idea? The only interest I have in her is her land and her title. I thought that obvious, but it seems I have to spell everything out for you.'

Guy would have loved to snap back at him, but managed not to. He also asked himself what had led him to believe anything else to be George's reason for action but his ambition. He would never learn, understand or keep in mind that George possessed no sentimental feelings whatsoever.

By the lack of response, George judged that his cousin didn't understand his reasoning, and because he himself thought his plan to be quite ingenious, he decided to explain it all.

'You know I've never liked king Richard, the blabbering fool. So when he left on that preposterous crusade of his, I didn't hesitate to undermine his rule. For some reason the grand majority of the nobles that remained here does look up to him. It has taken me six years to persuade them, and they still aren't sure. Then it came to me that there are two things I need:'

George leaned closer in a confidential way, about to reveal the two most essential things in his plan. He counted on his fingers.

'One: Money. Which is absolutely no problem, I'll just raise the taxes some more. And two: A significant enough title for everyone to accept me as the new king.'

Guy's eyes widened in astonishment; he'd known George was up to something, but placing himself on the throne? That was extremely daring. And dangerous.

George leaned ever closer. 'And that, cousin, is where the trouble lies. I was a good enough ass kisser to be named Sheriff, but the blasted 'Lionheart' didn't grant me a title or an estate with it. That was when my eye fell on the Locksleys. Not a very important family, but close to the king. It's said that it was partly because of their friendship that the wench's father took up arms as well. With him, and now his son too, gone, the girl was mine. Or so I thought.'

He had a look of disgust on his face.

'But she seems to escape me every time! It drives me crazy! And I really need her name and reputation. Without that, it would be very foolish to even attempt exiling Richard. And I have to make haste. No one knows when the king will return, but that could be any moment now, couldn't it? So I need to get my hands on her as soon as possible, and by any means necessary.'

Guy inwardly shivered at those last words. The ruthlessness practically dripped off of them. He knew that what George was planning wasn't right, not in the least. But there was nothing he could do without getting burnt as well. He was ashamed of it, but he couldn't deny that he was a coward. He had a good heart, and had always meant the best, but somehow things usually went wrong around him. And at those times, he lacked the strength of heart and mind to set things right. So he kept his face impassive, and murmured something about the brilliance of the plan to satisfy George's ego. Lost in thought, he followed his cousin to church.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Duncan's injury hadn't caused any delays, so the pair arrived in the city well in time for church. Sarah looked around eagerly in the town she knew so well, but only had the privilege to see once a week. Her face fell as she noticed the ever-growing number of beggars sitting in the streets. She counted herself lucky each day to have employment in such a good household. She had of course noticed the rising prices for everything, but could hardly fathom how hard life was on common people. 

Sarah left her horse with Duncan and made her way to the church, trying to avoid tripping on the homeless people scattered everywhere. She felt a heated surge of anger when she saw the Sheriff standing at the door, sleazily welcoming everyone of meaning. When she passed him, she smiled menacingly for a second, making sure he knew how ridiculous he was. Before he could address her, she neutralized her expression and entered the church. She hoped today's sermon would be of some guidance.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

At first he was taken aback, but he regained his composure when he realized who the woman was. He now recognized her as the Locksley servant. Yes, it was definitely her; light brown hair, oval face in a menacing expression clearly unusual to her features, brown eyes, slightly round build, mid-twenties… He might even remember her name. Sally, Susan…no, Sarah! That was it, Sarah. 

Satisfied that he could place her, he recalled her disturbing look. It had made him feel laughed at, which he absolutely didn't like. Feeling his temper rising, he figured that the only reason for her strange behavior was that she knew. She knew where her mistress was hiding. 

George had to keep himself from grinning evilly while he mechanically continued to welcome the arriving nobles. He forced himself to stop his train of thought and closed the heavy doors after the last person went inside. 

While he silently moved to his seat up front, next to his cousin, he searched the large hall for the servant girl. He found her sitting eight rows behind him, softly speaking to her neighbours, all of whom were not worth taking into account. 

As he sat down, the bishop got ready to begin the mass. Much to George's irritation he was not yet allowed to let his thoughts drift. They would begin with singing a few psalms. At moments like this he thanked whoever was up there for Guy's presence. His cousin always conveniently told him when to stand, to sit, say 'amen' (what kind of word was that anyway?!) and most importantly, what to sing. 

With a sigh, he abandoned all thoughts and let utter boredom engulf him.

~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~

Mass had been beautiful and full of meaning, as always. Sarah looked around contented. Yes, she believed. She utterly and deeply believed. The only thing that had broken her concentration had been a stream of cold air, and the rather loud closing of the church doors.

As she was leaving the pew, thinking the person entering was very rude and disrespectful, her attention was drawn to a hunched figure, standing in a dark corner. Not about to join the person in the corner, she moved along to the large altar to light a candle. 

When she was about to pray for her mistress' safety, she saw out of the corner of her eye that the same hunched figure was now standing next to her. A very unpleasant smell came to her nostrils. Sarah was about to leave, when the person spoke.

'Keep praying. People must not see us speak.'

Taken aback, Sarah did as she was told. The voice had sounded strangely familiar, though.

'Good, now listen. It's me, Robin. I'm a-'

Sarah shot up from her bowing pose, wide-eyed and her mouth open to blurt out anything entering her thoughts.

'Don't!', Robin said sharply, peering at Sarah from under her hood. 'I must not be seen! I came to tell you I'm alright. I went into Sherwood Forest – which isn't haunted by the way – and I made some friends there. They're helping me out. There's no time to explain the rest, I have to go now. People will start noticing me soon. Take care.'

Robin smiled at her, and moved away. Shaken, Sarah struggled to keep her calm. Unvoluntarily, she began to smile at the situation and something pooped up in her mind.

'Milady!', she called in a whisper.

'Yes?'

'People will notice you for sure if you don't take a bath soon!' Maybe it was childish, but Sarah couldn't help herself.

Robin muffled a laugh. If she'd ever been worried about Sarah's state of mind, she now knew none of what was happening caused any kind of trauma for her servant. Sarah would be fine.

Trying to go unnoticed, she left the hall, making her way to the stairs. There was one more thing she had to do.

******************************

N/A: Ok, what do you think? I tried to give the character of Guy some more depth than was the case in the movie. I liked his character as well as the actor who plays him, and I wanted to create a more sympathetic person. _And_ he died way to soon, hehe. Not much more to say, just that I really, really like reviews as they tell me if you like what I write or not. 

O yeah, even though it's a bit late: Happy Easter!


	9. Harsh reality

  
  


  
  


A/N: Hey, it's me again! It took a long time again, but I think that's a necessary evil, hehe. I changed the listing of the story, since I figured it would get a little more publicity if people were looking for a Robin Hood-fic.

This chapter is mostly action-based, with a little talking in the end. AND, the first killing is a fact. Enjoy!

clanKorval: Thanks for reviewing! I dunno about the Sheriff's name. I base this fic on the movie, and there the Bishop says 'George'. But anyhoo, thanks for noticing how I tried to combine the two. Maybe I'll insert Marian as a secondary character later, but I don't know yet.

* * *

**Chapter eight: Harsh reality**

During Robin's little exchange with Sarah, all the other people had left the building. After making completely sure she was alone, Robin went up the stairs. They led to the bishop's private chambers, where the man himself was changing into slightly more modest robes.

Reaching the door, Robin softly pushed it open. As the bishop didn't notice her, she coughed. Startled by that sound, the bishop turned. His pale blue eyes were wide open and his fat pig face was flushed. He miraculously managed to sound fatherly when he said:

'These are my private chambers, my child. If you desire a confession, go downstairs and a priest will tend to you.'

Even though his voice sounded nice, he could barely conceal the disgust he obviously felt when the foul smell met him. Robin smiled.

'That's not why I'm here, Father. I came to ask your help.'

Surprised by the civilized accent of a person dressed so shabbily, the bishop eyed her more carefully. His mouth opened in astonishment when he recognized Robin.

'Lady Robin of Locksley? Is it really you? The Sheriff has been looking all over for you!'

Robin nodded. 'I know, Father. He is the reason of my visit. I humbly ask you for your assistance.'

'Whatever might you need my help for, my child?' He asked, concerned.

'Well…' Robin searched for a way to make it sound less crude, 'the Sheriff is sort of trying to force me to marry him.'

The Bishop's eyes widened again. 'A marriage should not be forced! Why would a noble man like George of Nottingham do such a thing? It must be a misunderstanding, my child.'

But Robin shook her head. 'I'm sorry Father. But he was implying that I have huge debts with both you and the Crown, and that to settle them I have to either marry him, or lose everything I own.'

She looked at him pleadingly. 'Can't you help me? Please?'

The Bishop looked at her thoughtfully for a while before answering. 'I fear you are overreacting, Lady Locksley. He did not force you, he was offering you a very fruitful bonding to ensure the safety of your estate. I don't see why you shouldn't take it, my dear. The Sheriff is a very good party.'

Robin was dumbstruck. She had been open for any reaction except this! She stumbled over her words to convince him of her righteousness.

'But, but… I can't marry! Not…not without my father here to give me away.' She finished, relieved to have found an argument. But Fortune was not with her.

'It is not uncommon for me to give young women away who are deprived of their family. There really is nothing opposed to it, my dear.' The pig faced man finished triumphantly. Robin felt like smacking him, but tried to keep her cool.

'Please, Father, please! Isn't there another way? Aren't these taxes a little strange really? Both my father and brother are on a crusade to defend both your and king Richard's honor, and still you tax us this high! It's not just!' She cried exasperatedly, her feeling of justice kicking in.

Now the old man was fed up with her, and wasn't afraid to show it. 'Now listen here, Milady. We cannot begin to give crusaders' families different treatments. _That_ wouldn't be just! I say you go apologize to the Sheriff and humbly ask for his forgiveness. Then we can settle this affair with your marriage.' He nodded briskly and went to the door. He opened it heavily and called to one of the priests: 'You, fetch the Sheriff's guard! They need to escort a visitor to him.'

The Bishop's plan was now fully dawning on Robin, and at first she was flabbergasted to discover that the revered Bishop was not an Aid in Need as everyone had always told her he'd be. She felt feelings of betrayal and intense hatred boil up inside her as she turned to the traitor.

'No! I won't do it! I won't forget this, you old weasel. I'll will settle this new debt with you, say amen to that!'

With a last glare at the smug-looking man she rushed to the window and climbed out before he could say a thing. Not long afterwards, four guards came in, whom the Bishop told to go after her. The bravest, or most foolish of them, actually went out, onto the roof.

By then, Robin had already reached the top and was preparing to jump to another roof, from which she hoped to slide down to the ground. She looked back when she heard the noise the man was making, and her first panicked reaction was to pick up one of the roof tiles and throw it at him.

Even though her aim wasn't very good at this point, the tile was quite large and hit the man painfully in the side. It made him lose his balance, and to Robin's slight horror, he fell backwards from the roof. She cringed when she heard the dull thud that announced his arrival downstairs.

Robin was tempted to go see if he was alright, but canceled that when she saw the next guard's head coming up. She turned, took a deep breath, and jumped onto the Inn's roof, from which it was easier to slide down, since it's roofing was made of hay.

She looked down, and could see that people were now gathering to watch, pointing up at her, and calling other people to come and have a look too. This definitely wasn't good, as growing mobs tended to attract guards to disperse them. She looked around, and saw fresh patrols of said guards enter the square from all sides.

The two soldiers that had remained in the church, now burst out of the old doors, shouting to their companions. 'Seize her! Don't let her get away! The Bishop's orders!'

This kicked Robin into gear again, and she scrambled to the other side of the roof, that came out on an alley. Finally she reached the other side and jumped. It was still a considerable way down, and her knees couldn't absorb the full shock. She fell into a roll, and got completely entangled with a passer-by and her big cloak.

'Sorry, sorry!' She called back to the cursing man, trying to get to the main gate as fast as she could. Behind her, she heard the man shout even more horrible curses, from which she gathered that her pursuers were catching up. She sped up again, almost losing her balance as she skidded around the corner.

Robin had now come to the small clearing in front of the gates, and to her horror, several soldiers were closing the heavy doors! Behind her she heard a captain yelling to close it faster.

With a last explosion of energy, Robin charged towards the exit. She pushed past the startled guards and managed to just sidle through the opening. She now heard the captain shouting to open it again, but the thickheaded men weren't fast enough.

Fully energized with relief, she threw of her cloak and ran towards the group of trees, where her faithful Pilgrim was still waiting. Panting, she yanked the rains loose from the branch and swung herself onto her horse. She risked a mocking wave to the city walls, where a lot of people were gathered, but kicked Pilgrim into a gallop when the first arrow soared over her head.

'Come on, Pilgrim,' Robin said, 'Let's go back!'

* * *

'WHAT?! SHE WAS HERE AND YOU LET HER ESCAPE?!'

George's face was a deep crimson and the veins in his neck and temple were pulsating disturbingly.

'Y-yes, Milord. B-but we didn't recognize her, and-'

George seemed to try and control his anger, but the way he now whispered was even more frightening than the yelling he had done previously.

'You didn't recognize her?! All of you worthless maggots have a full description of her, and you _still_ don't notice her? You must be even more retarded than I had already feared. How, pray tell, had she disguised herself?'

The poor man was positively trembling with dread, and his voice was barely audible when he answered: 'W-well sir, she was wearing a cloak.'

George took a deep breath, narrowed his eyes and leaned closer.

'A cloak?'

The soldier swallowed heavily and nodded.

'Yes sir, but it was a very big one. And it was hooded. We couldn't see her face.'

The Sheriff wandered away, murmuring to himself.

'Why do I even bother to put guards at my gates…'

He then turned back to the unfortunate soldier and said calmly: 'But surely you know that someone is going to pay for this.'

Before the man could reply, George unsheathed his sword and stabbed him deep in his gut.

'And that someone is you.'

* * *

Robin retraced the way she had come at flying speed, expecting that a patrol would be sent after her soon. It had been nearing 3 pm when she had left the city, and it was not until an hour later that she reached the village where the food transport had been raided. She could see the aftermath of the affair clearly, as people were piling some corpses into a deep hole, and one of the huts was in ruins.

She couldn't see any familiar faces, so she assumed the gang had left for the Forest again as soon as possible. Seeing the logic in that action, she ushered Pilgrim to go faster again.

It took a while, but finally she could see the border of the Forest come into view. Robin sighed, relieved, as she was starting to feel tired. Both physically and emotionally.

When she entered the Forest, Robin realized she had no idea how to contact her newly found friends, lest where to find them. Unsure of what to do, Robin tentatively led Pilgrim into the dark woods.

* * *

After walking around for almost an hour, Robin was quite frustrated with her situation. And the sun was setting as well, so she decided to just stay where she was and make a campfire. She was to far away from the borders to be seen by anyone anyway.

She was just roasting a pheasant she'd caught with a snare, when she heard several twigs snap. She jumped to her feet and took out her dagger, trying to determine where the noise was coming from. Another twig was broken, and a figure stepped into view. Robin instinctively took a battle stance, ready for anything.

'Please don't throw tha'. I like the use of me two eyes, thanks.'

Robin lowered her weapon, surprised.

'Is that you, Wulf? Step into the light.'

The figure raised his hands to show he was unarmed and stepped forward.

'Are ye always this jumpy in the dark?' He asked, with a big grin plastered on his face.

Even though Robin was immensely relieved, she managed to look slightly offended.

'No,' she answered pointedly, putting her dagger away, 'I'm just not accustomed to having scary Forest giants budging in on my comfy campfire.'

'Well then ye best keep the giant as a friend, eh?' Wulf answered sticking his tongue out at her.

Robin laughed, and motioned for him to join her.

'Dinner's not ready yet, but I think you could use a bit of a warm-up.'

Wulf accepted the offer gladly, immediately stretching out his hands to the flames. They sat in silence for a while, and as the pheasant was almost roasted, Wulf pulled a small bread and large flask of drink out of his traveling sack. Robin eyed it interestedly.

'Were you counting on spending the entire night out?'

Wulf shrugged. 'The gang that did the raid waited for ya at the village for half an hour before returnin' to camp. When you didn't turn up when the sun was gettin' low, we decided I better go look for ye. I didn't know if I'd find ya. This Forest is pretty big, and we hadn't set a meetin' point, so I figured I might as well be prepared for anythin'.'

Robin merely nodded, and handed him a large chunk of the roast pheasant.

After they had eaten in a comfortable silence, making sure every scrap of food was being put to good use, Robin cleared her mouth and turned to Wulf.

'So how'd the raid go? I came across the village on my way back, and it looked as if there'd been fighting.'

Wulf sniggered. 'What'd ye expect? For those men to hand over an entire provision transport calmly? No, they put up a very good fight from what I heard. Will told they had to kill all of them.'

When he saw the look of distress on Robin's face, he hurried to add: 'Some of ours were injured as well.' If he had hoped that would soothe her, he'd badly mistaken. He shrugged in exasperation, feeling the urge to defend his friends' morals.

'What would ya have us do, Robin? Let 'em go back to Nottingham? The army'd be after us in no time! 'T was a necessary evil.' He assured her.

'And frankly, if it was us or them, I'd rather let it be them.' He added lightly.

Robin nodded, struggling to understand. She'd never been exposed to the cruelties of the real world. She had always firmly believed in the ideal of caring for one's fellow man, but now it seemed that society didn't really work that way. She examined her fingers sullenly, finally realizing it wasn't a game anymore, that she was really miles and miles away from the safe life she'd always enjoyed.

She looked up startled when Wulf put his big hand on both of hers.

'I know it's hard, but this is the way things go. Ye'll get used to it. I'll help ye.' He looked at her reassuringly.

Robin felt the need to be childish, and answered with a tiny voice: 'Promise?'

Wulf smiled and squeezed her hand.

'Promise.'

* * *

A/N: Phew, chapter eight, people! Just in time for my exams. They start next Monday… -.-; It's gonna be three weeks of cramming, but hopefully, the weather'll be good and when it's over, I'll finally be free! (Well, at least till September 1. ) See ya! 


	10. Revelations

N/A: Sorry it's been such a long time (again -.-;), I didn't have the energy to write in July, and I had a job in August, so… Yes I am aware this is a lame excuse. On with the story then!

Lykario: Thanks a lot!

Spacey Stacey: Thanks for your insightful comments, you made me realize I shouldn't forget about Will. He needs some more character depth. I figure out what as I write. Expect it in the very near future, though.

I also like warrior women a lot, so I'll definitely include such a scene!

Shastalily: I'll try to make my updates more regular, and I really appreciate your review.

Lady Gwen: I'm really sorry! I'll try to make this a nice long chapter and bring it out soon. I should make up a writing schedule, especially since school has started again.

Thanks to every single one of you for sticking with me this long… I hope.

* * *

**Chapter nine: Revelations**

Robin and Wulf had allowed themselves a good night's rest, after they had watched the fire die, both entirely occupied by their thoughts. Neither felt like eating after their late night supper, and after they had gathered all their belongings and Robin had checked on Pilgrim, they were ready to leave. While Robin waited outside the small campsite, Wulf quickly erased all traces of their presence. When finally they set out to the main hideout, it was near midmorning.

They unspoken agreed there was no reason to rush, so they walked at a calm pace; Wulf leading the way and Robin following while guiding Pilgrim alongside her. After an initial silence, in which Robin had pondered about her friend walking in front of her, she realized she didn't know a very great deal about him to say the least. She decided to remedy that.

'So Wulf, tell me something about yourself.'

Her question had apparently been out of the blue to Wulf, as he chuckled before answering.

'What do ye want to know? Me life isn't tha' interestin'.' He smiled over his shoulder.

'I don't know, anything. I practically know nothing about you, and that bothers me.'

'It bothers you?' Wulf laughed again.

Robin felt a bit laughed at, and continued fiercely.

'Yes!'

'Why?' Came the fast reply, which was met with silence for a moment until Robin had analyzed her motives and was satisfied with the answer.

'Because friends should completely trust each other. And there can't be such trust if they barely know anything about one another. And because I want to be able to call you my friend and equally trust you, I want to get to know you.'

As Wulf didn't reply for a while, Robin started to feel more and more uncomfortable. She started to fear she'd said too much, that he didn't feel the same sympathies, and searched for a way to take the weight from her words. At that moment, Wulf spoke.

'I was born eighteen summers ago, in a small village northeast of the Forest. My family worked the fields there, most of 'em belongin' to Nottingham. We were poor, but we were able to cope. It was normal for me and me siblings who were old enough to help out and do chores. We did those as fast as possible so we could go and play. It was a good childhood. But that was when King Richard was still around. When he left six summers ago, the Sheriff's been raising the taxes higher and higher, until almost a year ago we couldn't take it anymore. We were literally starvin'. That's when me father and me decided to go out poachin'. I'm the eldest of six, and I've always helped me dad with everythin'. For three months, we managed to go unnoticed, but then, a late night secret patrol surprised us. They caught us red-handed; both me and me dad with a deer over our shoulder. We ran for it into the woods and stayed there for some time. Me dad went back a few times to see me mother and to tell other men who'd started poachin' too, that we were quite safe in the woods. So, since then, our band's been growin'. We try to make a livin' in the Forest, but we're all very worried about our families, who're still starvin' out there. It's hopeless, really.'

Wulf took a pause.

'That enough for ye to call me yer friend?' He asked, grinning over his shoulder to lighten the mood. But he didn't completely succeed, as Robin had clearly heard the worry and sadness in his story. She couldn't help but share the feeling, but deep in her heart a spark of rebelliousness lighted. She didn't quite know what to do with it yet, but her vow to help these people in any way possible stood ever more firmly. But she pushed these ponderings to the back of her mind, and redirected her attention to Wulf.

'Yes, that is quite satisfactory, thank you.' She said, mockingly. 'Would you now be so kind as to grant me the privilege of calling you my friend? And would you also allow me to become yours?' She added, her voice growing softer by the word.

To her relief, Wulf burst out laughing.

'I don't understand much o' yer fancy talk, but that ye're me friend is for sure. And I'd very much like te be yers too.' He looked over his shoulder mischievously. 'You want to shake hands on tha', or an official document in threefold, maybe? So ye can show everyone the evidence of our mutual agreement?'

He laughed at Robin's dropped jaw, both in insult and in astonishment. She'd never thought him to know the meaning (or even the existence) of words like 'official' and 'mutual'! As she looked at Wulf's back, still shaking with laughter, Robin told herself to never again judge a person on their appearance.

Wulf had obviously known that below her friendly feelings towards him, there was always a hidden pity for him. For his simple upbringing and his commonness of thoughts and manners. It had stung a bit at first, but he had realized it wasn't her fault before he could start to dislike her. But that didn't stop him from feeling satisfied now he had finally proven her he wasn't stupid. Not by a long shot.

After another while of silence, it occurred to Robin that it was rather rude to expect people to trust her with their story, when she didn't supply them with the same trust. She hurried forward to walk closer to Wulf, and continued their forgotten conversation.

'Now that you've told me all about your past, it's only the right thing for me to do the same.'

Keeping his eyes on the path before him Wulf gestured for her to continue, inwardly feeling very happy about her suggestion, as he had been hesitant to ask her himself.

Robin took a deep breath and started.

'You are not much older than I am, for I was born seventeen years ago. My mother died shortly after giving birth to me, so my father raised me by himself. I have an older brother, named Peter. He should now be nineteen years old. My childhood was very careless and happy, and I was treated exactly the same as my brother. But then my father left with King Richard's crusade. The changes for me were small and barely noticeable, mostly because my brother allowed me to keep playing around while he coped with our rapidly decreasing funds. It wasn't until he left for Jerusalem to find my father that I found out we weren't as comfortable as I had always thought we were. When I finally saw the accounts, it finally occurred to me why all the servants except for Sarah and Duncan had disappeared.

I had to grow up quickly, partly because of my family's money problems, but also because for some reason, the Sheriff started to shower me with attentions. He had tried this before when my brother had still shielded me, but now he came at me with full force.'

Here Robin hesitated for a bit, then decided that she would tell her friend the entire story, as he had been honest with her as well.

'Four days ago, he came to me with an ultimatum. I hadn't been able to stop our debts with both the Crown and the Church from increasing (though I doubt they are as high as he told me), and he said that, in order to solve my problems, I had to marry him. I had no intention to do that, so early the next morning I ran for it. They chased me until the Forest's borders, where they stayed back out of superstition. And this leaves me with you.'

Robin finished, glad she had finally managed to admit to someone the mess she was in.

Wulf contemplated her story for a while before answering. He'd have never guessed such would be the extent of her problems. He had thought she had exaggerated when she'd said she was an outlaw too. Then something came to him.

'Tha's why ye went to Nottingham yesterday, isn't it? Ye went to talk to the Bishop… and I think ye wanted to tell yer friends ye were all right too, right?' Wulf looked really pleased with himself, that he had worked it out. So was Robin. She now felt like he completely understood her situation.

'Yes, I did!' She replied enthusiastically. 'But it didn't work, he supports the Sheriff, and I could only barely escape the guards. They even fired arrows at me from the city walls!'

Wulf shook his head. 'That must've been a real jaw dropper, the Bishop not caring shite about ye. I always knew the man was heartless deep down.'

Robin was surprised at how bitter he sounded, but decided not to press the matter, as they had come almost within view of the main camp. She recognized her surroundings. She left Wulf alone for a while, but when they almost came into the clearing, Robin quickly grabbed his arm and forced him to look at her.

'Do you mind keeping our conversations a bit… private? I mean, I don't want anyone to think I'm some weak "damsel in distress" or anything.' She looked at him hopefully, willing him to understand.

'He smiled, not bitter anymore now he was back with his friends, and nodded.

'Sure. Just tell 'em enough to make 'em all trust ye.'

Robin smiled back, and decided to take his advice to heart.

* * *

Quite a few faces looked relieved at their appearance. Several men shouted out questions and greetings, but only John walked over to them, and by the looks of him, he wasn't happy. He positioned himself squarely in front of Robin and barked out:

'I thought I told ye to come back _before_ sundown! What were ye thinkin', comin' in late an' makin' me send Wulf out to find ye. Ye could've been k-'

'Calm down, Da', she's fine.' Wulf replied, effectively silencing his father. Startled by John's outburst, Robin had shrunk behind Wulf. She wasn't sure yet if John had been worried for her, or just angry because she had endangered his son.

Now John had let go of his frustration and worry, he scrutinized Robin and concluded that his son was right. She only looked a little tired. He nodded, and let out a smile before turning.

'Notch! Com'ere and take care o' this horse, she's very tired.'

As Notch moved forward to take over Pilgrim, John turned back to the two travelers.

'Come, sit down and have a rest while ye tell me everythin' tha's happened.'

Gratefully, Robin and Wulf accepted his offer. A man Robin remembered as Wat the cook, passed them both a hot brew of something. She found it had a taste to get used to, but it revived her in an instant. When they were settled, Robin began her story. It was a sobered-up version of what she had told Wulf, leaving out all emotional details, but the crowd of listeners grew nonetheless.

'…so I was lucky to just squeeze through the gate. I imagine it took them a lot of time to open it again so they could send a patrol after me.'

'What?!' apparently, Will had been listening as well. 'They sent a patrol after you?!'

He turned to look at the rest.

'I told you, didn't I? I _told_ you she'd endanger us! The stupid twit went straight back to the Forest, leading them exactly to us! Now they know the Forest isn't haunted. I'm telling you, Nottingham will have an army at our doorstep in no time flat!'

During his small tirade, Will had started pacing around, occasionally casting an accusing glare at Robin, who looked startled at first, but grew angry soon after.

Having said what he wanted to, Will started to walk away. But Robin couldn't let these insults slide. She stood up as well and yelled:

'Ever since I came here you've been on my case, insulting me and judging me from the start. What on earth is your problem, Will?!'

Will turned with a condescending smirk on his face.

'My problem? My problem is you, Locksley. We were perfectly safe here before _you_ decided to play hide and seek with the Sheriff. Now his attention is drawn to this place, and sooner or later he'll discover us. It's the same as ever with you rich people; you only think about yourselves. I bet it never even occurred to you that you were putting all our lives on the line during your little _escapade_ to Nottingham. That, in a nutshell, is my problem.'

He turned to walk away again, but Robin wasn't finished and said calmly to his retreating back:

'I've said this before. You can always fight back.'

Will turned again, laughing.

'And how do suppose we do that? Yell 'boo' and throw sticks at them? We don't have the skill, weapons or manpower to stand up to even one armed patrol. I would be a massacre!'

'I never said you had to fight them in a direct battle.' Robin looked around, and noticed that everyone looked doubtful. She decided it was time to address everyone present, and climbed a tree stump to be able to overlook the crowd.

'I know you can't match them in a direct fight, and I have no intention to send you to your deaths. I suggest we play smart. That we use the Forest to our advantage. We can ambush them, lure them away from the road and make sure they get lost. It's not traditional warfare, and therefore the Sheriff will not know what to do. He doesn't play nice, and neither should we.'

Robin was really getting into it, when Notch raised his hand to say something.

'Yeah, tha's all nice and all, but if we do tha', the Sheriff's gonna take it out on our families. And how're ye plannin' to survive much longer here? Winter's comin' and there's no food here, and more important, a place to live!'

Several calls of 'yeah' and 'Aye' were heard, and Robin knew he had a point. She contemplated his words for a bit, then answered.

'Wulf's told me you know how to poach. Why don't we do that? And we can raid more food transports, and start right away with gathering nuts and berries for the winter. About your families, tell them to come here as well. They shouldn't wait for trouble, and we need them to help us building houses in the trees. We will use the Forest to our utmost advantage.

As for fighting, quite a few of you have some skill either with the staff, knife or bow and arrow. Let them come to me, and together we will teach everyone how to defend themselves.'

She was on fire now, and noticed that the looks of disbelief were gradually changing in determination and hope. Both John and Wulf had huge grins on their faces. Only Will was still sneering at her.

'What's all this 'we' stuff you're saying, are you planning to join us?' He said sarcastically.

Robin pinned him with an icy glare.

'Yes. And if necessary, to lead you.' She then turned from his speechless face to the rest.

'Now who is with me?'

The answer was a deafening roar of approval, and Robin's heart made a leap of joy at the sound of it. She would finally be able to really _do_ something.

* * *

N/A: Phew! This second part was hell to write. I didn't want to make Robin to much of a know-it-all, but not weak and indecisive either. In the film, Kevin Costner is too bossy in this scene, and he expects everyone to just accept his authority. Because my Robin's a girl and I wanted to keep it realistic, I couldn't do that. I hope I toned it down enough to keep her likeable.


	11. Rebellion

N/A: Not much to say really, just that finally, the stage in my story is set. All so-called preparations, explanations and introductions have been made, and it's time for the real story to start, so to speak.

And of course a huge thanks to all reviewers; you are the best! (I know, I know, I'm _very_ late with updating…)

So please, bear with me and read on! (sorry for any type-o's, I was too tired to proofread)

* * *

**Chapter ten: Rebellion**

If anyone had dared enter Sherwood Forest in the following month, they would have heard a lot of unusual sounds coming from within the heart of it. Immediately after Robin's little speech, the planning and construction of the 'tree-village' had started. It seemed that the carpenters among the men had found it an intriguing idea, as they were working relentlessly on making the tree houses as safe, inconspicuous and effective as possible.

Seeing that she could leave the building safely in the hands of the inventive carpenters, Robin set to discussing with John and a few others how they would organize the fencing and archery classes, as well as the patrols. They had decided to keep a permanent watch on the main road, which would be their main source of supplies during the winter, and was of course the only real entrance to the Forest. Tasks and chores were divided between the men, and finally there was some structure in the band's daily occupations.

When everyone had gotten used to their daily routine, the men were sent back to their villages one at a time, to collect their friends and relatives. Slowly, the community in the Forest grew, with every new resident assuming the role that suited them best. Quite a lot of the group had now acquired some skill with weapons, through which their self-esteem grew as well. Spirits were generally high.

Generally.

The only one _not_ happy with the reorganizations was Will. He had taken the outcome of his last discussion with Robin quite badly, and would rather die than admit that her ideas had brought forth a big improvement of their well-being. And now his friends had apparently deserted him in favor of the girl, all he could do was keep a low profile and sulk. He grudgingly did the tasks appointed to him, but only because otherwise he would have both Littles glaring him to death. He avoided a confrontation though, waiting for the tiniest slip-up on Robin's part.

Robin, on the other hand, was completely oblivious to Will's sentiments. She had been working non-stop on improving camp-life even more, while also supervising the fighting-classes and listening to people's suggestions and problems. It turned out that of all people, she was the most approachable for that sort of thing. Ever since that one afternoon, now commonly referred to as the 'Turnaround', Robin was considered the unofficial leader of the community, along with John Little. Wulf had been approached as well but was very reluctant, and eventually settled for being an advisor when asked. He ended up doing a lot of work in the background, and Robin and John didn't know what they would ever do without him.

* * *

As autumn wore on, the changes in the Forest area became noticeable. An increasing number of patrols returned to the city to report that the villages were strangely deserted. At first, the Sheriff didn't pay any attention to it. It was only when it was time to collect the monthly taxes, that he became concerned: he needed that money to bribe the barons. When the fourth patrol returned without any money with them, George exploded.

'What do you mean: "No one there"?! Those bloody peasants can't just have vanished, now can they?!'

The poor soldier was positively trembling with fear, knowing what happened to men who infuriated the Sheriff.

'N-no, Milord… b-but th-'

'Then where _have_ they gone, you insignificant fool, _where_?!'

The poor man took a deep breath, and mustered all his courage before stammering:

'Th-there's this rumour, you see, about the Forest,' taking George's silence as encouragement, he continued, 'they say that groups of people have entered it, and haven't returned. Entire villages going in, and none ever coming back.'

The Sheriff had got his temper back under control, and asked in a dangerously calm voice:

'And do you also know why?'

The soldier seemed to shrink under the eye of his commander, and could only whisper.

'Th-they say it's because of the ghosts… and the hooded woman.'

George raised his eyebrows. 'The hooded woman?' He furiously hoped the man wouldn't say the answer he dreaded. He hoped in vain.

'Y-yes, Milord. The woman who you wanted captured almost two months ago. They say she's luring everyone in there, seeking her revenge… No one knows who she is.' The soldier shuddered at the thought.

George tried to keep his breathing leveled, while he sought a way out of this ridiculous mess. He hadn't failed to notice the man's superstitious fear of the Locksley wench. He sorted his thoughts, and finally answered the still trembling man before him.

'First of all, we _do_ know her name, and there is nothing about her that you should be afraid of, you superstitious fool. She is Robin of Locksley, who failed to pay her debts and thus has become an outlaw. So she is still in the Forest, you say? And gathering allies? Well, we'll see who has the last laugh…' he trailed of, but continued with renewed force, directing his speech anew to the soldier. 'Captain, I want you to issue a search for this woman. Take a patrol and enter the Forest, do everything you must to find her, but bring her to me _alive_. Is that understood?'

'Yes, Milord! At once!' The soldier jumped into action, relieved that he was at least going to live out this day.

When he had left, George had begun pacing. So she thought she was smart, didn't she? Hiding in a Forest believed to be haunted, gathering men… this could actually prove to be quite fun, he thought. But the problem of money still remained. With each passing day the barons were getting more and more restless because of the imminent return of the Lionheart, and money was needed more than ever to appease their worries. And there was also a second reason for haste; Prince John had also started to entertain the thought of becoming king. Even though George had a head start on gaining the barons' favour opposed to the weak-minded Prince, said Prince's title was practically perfect for becoming king. Luckily for the Sheriff, the Prince was even more cruel, perverted and disturbed than he was, so he was even less popular with the people than the Sheriff – if that were possible.

So, though not that urgent yet, those issues were enough to make George act fast. Having finally decided what to do, he walked to the heavy doors of his main hall, and yelled through them up the stairs: 'Guy!! Get down here!'

Not long after, his solemn looking cousin appeared in the doorway.

'You called, cousin?'

'Yes', said George, who had returned to his desk, 'I need you to do something for me.'

* * *

Grateful that he hadn't lost his life during his audience with the Sheriff, the captain acted out his given orders immediately. He would not waste a chance at getting on the Sheriff's good side. He started with having posters hung up in Nottingham and the surrounding towns, portraying a woman wearing a hooded cloak – who didn't even look remotely like Robin – and written underneath it: "Robin Hood. Whoever can bring her to the Sheriff _alive_ shall receive 100 gold pieces." The captain apparently hadn't remembered Robin's real last name, and so had named her after her appearance. Since no one questioned it, the name soon took flight and was heard often in market conversations.

Secondly, the captain assembled a patrol for an excursion into a certain Forest. It was hard to find any volunteers for this, as none of the soldiers were very keen on entering Sherwood. Every last one of them believed in the ghost stories. Eventually, the captain ended up on using the ever-successful technique of "force-volunteering", and managed to gather a grand total of eight men. He thought this to be enough to catch one girl. Quite satisfied with himself, he informed the Sheriff that he was leaving on the search for Robin Hood.

The patrol rode out of Nottingham at a swift pace, and reached the Forest by midday. The soldiers had been laughing and joking loudly during the journey, but when they came to the Forest's border, not a sound was being made and none of them were smiling. Even the captain, so eager to please the Sheriff, hesitated at the Forest's forbidding atmosphere. They stood there a while, until the captain cleared his throat.

'Well men, in we go. Just keep your eyes open, and be alert at all times. Maybe there aren't any ghosts, but there are other things in there.'

Ignoring the remarks the ghost-believers behind him made, he spurred on his horse to follow the main road leading into the Forest. He hoped he would not have to leave it.

The small group had penetrated the Forest quite deep, when finally they heard a noise. It was immediately followed by a flying arrow, aimed to land just in front of the captain's horse's feet. It reared, and the man was barely able to keep his balance. Within the second, his men had pulled out their crossbows and were looking around for the offending archer. Then, the far end of a bow descended in front of the captain's face, and started pulling at the badge on his vest proclaiming his rank. Startled, he tried to grab bow, but was only rewarded with a light tap on the nose and rich laugh coming from above him. Only then did he and his men have the wit to look above rather than around themselves.

Sitting on the branch over the captain's head was a young person, with red hair just past the shoulders and dressed in greens and browns. On their face was a huge grin.

The captain made his horse retreat a bit to get himself out of his vulnerable position and to get a better view of his attacker. He could now see it was a woman sitting on the branch, and he realized he must be looking at none other than Robin Hood.

Before he could utter a word, the girl leaned backwards and somersaulted to the ground, landing smoothly on her feet. She straightened, and smiled pleasantly at the captain.

'Who are you, and what brings you into our Forest?'

The man regained the control over his tongue, and tried very hard to be intimidating.

'I'm the Sheriff's captain, and I'm ordered to arrest you, Robin Hood.'

To his dismay, the girl chuckled. 'Robin Hood? So you came up with that name! I've seen the posters you made too. Tell me, am I really that hideous?'

The captain didn't answer that question, for the last thing he could do was to tell an outlaw that she was quite pretty, actually. Instead, he sought to scare her again.

'If you do not come with us willingly, we will have to use force. And trust me, you wouldn't want that.'

Robin shook her head. 'Sorry, but I'm not going to come willingly, nor am I about to trust you. I suggest you save yourself the effort and go back to where you came from.'

'That is out of the question,' the captain said, and on his gesture, the soldiers aimed their crossbows at her, 'if I must, I will have you crippled to ease our return to Nottingham. Be sure that I will not hesitate.'

Robin merely smiled, and a voice erupted from the side of the road:

'Ye don't want to be doin' tha' mate.'

With that, a curtain made of a net with leaves attached to it, bordering the road, fell down. It revealed a group of fourteen men, all aiming their longbows at the soldiers. A very tall, bushy-haired man stepped up to stand next to Robin, smirking triumphantly behind his beard.

'Lower your weapons, if you value your lives.' Robin said.

When the soldiers had hastily complied, she stepped forward to the captain. The tall man eyed the captain warily, daring him to try anything.

Robin beckoned the soldier to her and softly said to him:

'Return to Nottingham with your men, and tell the Sheriff that if he wants to catch me, he will have to send something better than your little patrol. I must say that I find this a bit insulting. Tell him also, that his horrible deeds will not go unpunished. Before the Lionheart returns and gives him a trial, he better watch his back, for we'll be there to make him pay for what he's done.'

She retreated with a smile on her face, but he could the determination it harboured. Before he could answer her, the bushy-haired man cut him off.

'Off ye go then! And don't come back!' He then brought down his arm, and his group fired a warning at the soldiers. The least brave of them turned their horses and fled, immediately followed by their colleagues and their captain.

They rode out of the Forest like madmen, with arrows following them and laughter ringing in their ears. They didn't slow down for anything until they reached the city, and only then did the captain realize that the bloody woman had stolen his captain's badge. He slammed shut the doors of the stable angrily, and steeled himself for the report he was about to give to the Sheriff. His lord would not be happy.

Hours later, the captain fell onto his bed with pain coursing through his entire body. The Sheriff had not been mild with his punishment, but luckily for the soldier, he had not been in the mood to kill either. When the captain had told his tale and had conveyed Robin's message, George had released a furious beating on his back, accompanied by a colourful string of curses the poor soldier had never heard before. When he had calmed down enough, George had thought everything over, and had told the captain to get up and clean himself. He was the one who had come closest to Robin Hood, and though it didn't mean much yet, it was the only tool at their disposal. He was now in charge of all expeditions into the Forest concerning her, but he didn't know whether he was to be happy with this promotion or not.

In another part of town, the eight soldiers were sitting in a tavern, getting very drunk. To everyone who wanted to listen, they told the story of their mission. Apparently, they hadn't registered it was a camouflage-curtain falling down, and so they were now telling an outrageous tale about Forest giants appearing out of nowhere whenever they wanted, girls falling out of trees and mysteriously flying arrows. This story appealed very much to people's imagination, and by the following morning everyone in and around Nottingham had heard it, or at least one of the uncountable versions. It even traveled to Locksley, where a slightly worried Sarah laughed at the things her mistress had supposedly done, things she very much hoped were just gossip. But she did welcome these stories, as they told her Robin wasn't dead or captured. As long as that was still the case, she wouldn't allow herself to get overly worried.

Back in Sherwood Forest, no one knew about the legend being created about them. They were just happy to have won the first confrontation, and were already preparing for the next, which they knew would undoubtedly come. The rebellion was official.

* * *

N/A: Next chapter will be from Robin's point of view again, and I think it will include some more of Will and his issues. I am not going to reveal anything about a romance yet, but I can say that Will is _not_ kin to Robin. I'm thinking up this story as I go, and I'm not sure yet who Robin is going to fall for.

Anyhoo, a happy and prosperous 2005 for everyone, and let's hope that the people in south-east Asia can more or less pick up their lives again.


	12. Musings

N/A: I finally have proof that people don't read my story once and then cast it aside! I can't believe I'm on the author watch of **5** people! To some of you, that may seem laughable, but to me it's really something. I can't seem to be able to stop smiling, my family says it's quite disturbing. I'll just ignore them, ne?

**miz greenleaf:** Wow, you sure review fast! I'm glad you like the story, though I doubt I'm worth the praise you give me (It still feels great though ;)). I'll try to update faster, but I don't dare to make any promises…

* * *

**Chapter eleven: Musings**

The men's serious air vanished at the hasty retreat of the Nottingham soldiers. They were reluctant to admit that they had been nervous, and the only way they now showed it was through their loud laughter. Some sent a few arrows flying after the fleeing riders, while others hung the curtain back up for future use. After erasing all signs of the encounter, the group leisurely walked back to the Tree-village. While the men were joking and laughing amongst themselves, John was talking in hushed tones with Robin.

'I still think ye took a huge risk by steppin' up to 'em alone. They could've shot ye before ye had time te say "boo"! And comin' within whisperin' distance with tha' bloke up front wasn't what we'd rehearsed either. What were ye thinkin', Robin!'

It was obvious that underneath his gruff demeanor, John had been very worried for her. During the time she'd been with them, he had grown to like her very much.

Robin blushed a bit at being told off, but wasn't about to go down without a fight. 'Firstly, we didn't "rehearse" anything. There wasn't enough time for that after the warning – remind me that we improve our look-out system – and I just followed my instincts. Secondly, I thought it would be smart to make sure that the Sheriff knows he can't scare us that easily. To be frank, it irked me that he only sent eight cowardly soldiers and a pansy-ass captain to stop us. Can you blame me for being a tad bit disappointed after all the effort we put into this?'

John shook his head. 'Personally, I'm happy it was so small a patrol. Yer right when ye say we weren't prepared enough. Think of what would've happened if their force _had_ been more impressive? 'T would've been a bloodbath. Now we know there's still room for improvement, and let's hope that despite your challengin' the Sheriff there'll still be enough time to do just that.'

He looked at her defeated-looking face, and clapped a hand on her shoulder. 'Hey, don't look so glum, I'm not sayin' ye screwed up. But ye have to know that there's a difference between bravery and bein' rash. Yes, in my opinion we have to be cautious, but that doesn't mean we're cowards. You least of all.'

Robin perked up a bit at his words but scolded herself mentally anyway, for she had once again forgotten that what she was doing was dangerous. She realized now that she had been so caught up in preparing a rebellion, that she had allowed her imagination to run free again. She had unconsciously pictured an entertaining and glorious battle – much like the tales of heroes she had been told before going to bed during her childhood – and had failed to separate fairytales from reality. She sternly told herself she had to get serious if she ever wanted all of this to work, and that at this point she could not afford to be fooling around, lest it cost her the good outcome of the rebellion. After steeling her resolve one last time, she set her thoughts on how to improve the apparently failing look-out system.

For the rest of the journey, Robin was too preoccupied to keep much of a conversation going with John. He didn't mind, since he figured she had a lot to think about, and he didn't want to pry. Instead, he joined the men in their boisterous conversation, firing jokes at each other.

* * *

The atmosphere in the village at their return was one of both anticipation and apprehension. Anticipation because they wanted to see if all their planning and training had been worth it, and apprehension because there was always the possibility that something had gone wrong. Many people had gathered to witness the return of the patrol, and quite a few were now checking if anyone was missing. But all their worries vanished when the patrol came close enough for the onlookers to see their big grins and hear the bantering going on between them. 

The group was greeted very enthusiastically, and while the men were telling the others all about their – grossly exaggerated – adventure, Robin hung to the back a bit and tried to spot both Wulf and Wat the cook. The latter came into her view first, and she signaled him she wanted to talk.

'Aye, Robin?' He asked, just as cheerful as the others. 'what can I do for ye?'

'Ask all the women to help you prepare as big a feast as we can afford. I want to celebrate our first victory.'

Wat looked delighted at the prospect, and nodded energetically.

'Right-o Robin! You'll be in for a treat the tonight!' And with a last wink, he departed to mobilize his squad of kitchen-queens.

With that taken care of, Robin continued to try and spot Wulf, and was finally rewarded with the sight of a familiar mop of messy brown hair. She meandered through the vast mass of people that separated her from Wulf, and finally managed to get his attention.

'I was wonderin' where ye were hidin'. Wulf greeted her with his trademark grin. 'Not feelin' like joinin' the festivities?'

Robin chuckled. 'Not yet anyway, there are some things I need to take care of. That's where you come in.'

'Oh?' Wulf raised an eyebrow in question. 'And what could be so important that it can't wait until after the feast?'

'The fact that, as your father pointed out to me, we were very badly prepared and quite lucky that the Nottingham patrol was only small.'

Wulf's eyes widened in surprise.

Now it was Robin's turn to raise an eyebrow. 'You didn't believe all those fantastical stories they are telling, did you?'

Wulf blushed. 'No, of course not. Never believed them.' He shook his head a bit to forcefully, and Robin chuckled again.

'You are the _worst_ liar I've ever seen. Now come, we have a scouting system to improve.' And before he could protest, she pulled him with her to their headquarters.

On their way to the large tree house that was set up as their headquarters for all coordination, the pair ran into Will. He had for some reason not been present at the gathering, and was only now moving towards the noises that indicated a party was in the making.

Robin intended to move past him without seeking a confrontation, as she had done ever since the Turnaround, but Will wasn't so accommodating.

'I'd have thought you would enjoy a party that's given in your honour, _Milady_, but it seems you're looking for someplace more calm for your "activities".'

Will was smirking suggestively between her and Wulf, and when the bushy-haired boy began to blush, Will's smirk only increased.

Robin eyed him coldly. If he wanted a fight, he could certainly get one.

'For your information, that party is to celebrate our first victory. But you wouldn't know that, since you obviously weren't invited, were you? And as for where we're going, that isn't of any importance to you. So just scamper off now, and go see if anyone is willing to share some food with you.'

Not waiting for Will to answer, she pushed past him roughly, gesturing for Wulf to follow her. She didn't see how Will opened his mouth to shout something after her, then thought the better of it and continued towards the party, his shoulders tensed and his back rigid.

* * *

'Robin, wait! Dammit- would you slow down!' 

The girl was moving at an impressive speed, and even with his much longer legs, Wulf had difficulty catching up. Reluctantly, the girl slowed down, allowing him to come up next to her.

'Ye shouldn't let 'em get to ye,' he said, eyeing her clenched fists, 'No one values what he says anymore, and neither should you. None of 'em are ever gonna believe that you and I, eh-'

'That's not the point,' Robin interrupted, 'What bothers me is that he refuses to see that I only strive to improve our situation, and that he never lets an opportunity slide to get on my nerves!'

She turned to face him, anger flashing in her eyes. 'What have I ever done to him! Why is he acting like this when all I try to do is help?'

Wulf looked at her calmly, knowing that he needed to be just that to let her regain her own composure. After a few seconds he spoke softly.

'He told you. He doesn't like you because you're of aristocratic birth. Yes, I know that is completely unfair, but it can't be changed. At least not in so short a time. Just let it go, and maybe he'll come round later. And if not, well, that's his loss. You must accept that you can't be friends with everyone.'

During Wulf's little speech, Robin had relaxed her fists and her anger was as good as gone. She now realized that there was not a trace left of his usual accent, but she chose not to comment on it when she raised her eyes to meet his.

'I guess you're right… I just wish he'd keep his irrational grudges to himself.'

Wulf sniggered. 'If I'd get everything I wished for…' He wiggled his eyebrows.

'Too much information!' Robin exclaimed, and pulled her still sniggering companion to the ladder leading to the tree house.

* * *

Inwardly seething, Will walked towards the party. He had been reluctant to join the others to begin with, but now his mood was _so_ foul that he really wished he didn't have to. Unfortunately, his stomach was rumbling and every last scrap of food was now regrettably located at the feast. He had no choice but to go. 

While slowly approaching the crowd, he went over his last encounter with Robin. He just hadn't been able to keep his mouth shut – again. He didn't really know why, but she annoyed him to no end. In the beginning he'd been convinced it was because she was rich, and of noble birth – he _hated_ nobles – but so far she hadn't displayed any of the selfishness and disdain that he knew always accompanied such people. In fact, his conscience tauntingly reminded him, she'd worked very hard for everyone's well-being, only using her intellectual upbringing for the good of the group.

Thus far he hadn't been able to catch her on a deliberate attempt to harm anyone, so it had proven to be impossible to name her heritage and characteristics as the reasons for his dislike any longer. But the fact remained that she was still excruciatingly annoying. He had yet to point out what exactly it was about her that irked him so much, because everyone else found her to be very likeable, save for her sometimes astounding naiveté and over-enthusiasm. But even then there were people, especially women, who found her sweet.

One would think that these things would make anyone admit their mistake of judgment, but Will was more stubborn than all the mules in Britain combined. He simply refused to offer his apologies and risk being heavily embarrassed. But his resolve was very much being put to the test, because Robin wasn't fuelling his dislike at all. She was never the one to start the fights they regularly had, and she never discredited him behind his back.

Will's train of thought was interrupted when he was handed a bowl of hot soup and an empty plate by Wat. The cook told him in not unfriendly words that he was supposed to fill it later at the tables laden with food. He avoided looking in anyone's eyes while making his way towards a tree stump that wasn't occupied yet. After setting down his empty plate, he began eating the broth, allowing his thoughts to roam free again. His anger and frustration had by now disappeared, and he was able to calmly think his situation over.

His obvious antipathy for Robin – which he would try to rationalize again later – had not improved his position within the camp, not by a long shot. He had come from a village that was relatively far away from the Forest, and he was the only one from that area to have come to Sherwood. The other outlaws in the gang had all come from neighbouring towns, and Will was regarded as an outsider. That his nature was not overly nice, didn't help either. He had a different, more cynical sense of humour and not as talkative as the others. He had never divulged why exactly he was on the run, and that was also one of the reasons why it had taken the better part of a year for people to really consider him part of the group. He had finally felt accepted and at ease when Robin had shown up, but his feud with her had alienated him again.

Maybe that was one of his motives, he mused. She was the reason he had lost his more or less comfortable position in the group. He tried to ignore the small voice in his head saying that had been his own fault, that it had been his harsh prejudice that had triggered this reaction from his peers.

He bowed his a bit deeper over his soup, his brow creasing a bit as he still carefully avoided locking eyes with anyone.

True, he might have exaggerated a bit in his accusations, but he had seen her as a threat to the group he had finally managed to belong to, as he had attributed her all the characteristics that he thought went hand in hand with nobility. But she hadn't lived up to his grim expectations, and people were now very displeased with him for badmouthing her like that.

He knew that everything would be much better if he buried his hostility and offered her his apologies, but it would be excruciatingly humiliating to admit that he was at fault when he had vehemently defended his views for the better part of two months. He didn't have much, and a lot had been taken away from him in his life, but one thing he had always been able to keep was his pride. And he was not willing to throw that to the wind because he had misjudged some weird, idealistic, rich girl. If he were to surrender, he would be at her mercy. She would be able to torment him for God knew how long about the wrong he had done to her, and no one would complain.

As he finally finished his soup, his conscience whispered that maybe it wouldn't be so bad to surrender. It would mean that he would be free to enjoy the benefits she had created for them as well, and that he didn't have to scorn her ideas any longer when he actually thought they were rather good. And not in the least: it would save him from a great deal of headaches. So why not give in, his conscience told him with a jibe of jealousy, and see if she could be as good a friend to him as she was to Wulf…

Will violently shook his head to clear his mind from those ghastly thoughts, and stood up to go to his hut. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

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N/A: I hope you like the insight I've given you in Will's reasoning. I feel he is more 'alive' as a character now. I don't know yet what action is going to happen in next chapter, but I do hope to get it out before my week of vacation is over. 


	13. It isn't all what it's cracked up to be

N/A: I took some time for me to start on this chapter, because I couldn't find any inspiration. If it sucks, my apologies. I felt like I had to cross a bridge and come to a new stage in my story, and it took more effort than I expected.

**Speak Out:** I know, I know…. I felt really ashamed of myself when I read your review. It made me pick up the story again. So I guess I should thank you for that. I do hope not all my readers have abandoned me..

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Chapter twelve: It isn't all what it's cracked up to be**

Guy closed the door behind him and leaned against it. He sighed. He would never understand the workings of his cousin's mind. Not in a million years. He dragged a hand through his hair and moved to lie on his bed. As soon as his back touched the mattress, he felt the strain he hadn't even known was there, disappear. He stretched, and finally felt a bit relaxed.

He'd been up and about all day, carefully preparing what his cousin wanted him to do.

It had been a few days since George had sent that first patrol to the Forest and had given Guy his orders. He frowned once again when he recalled the conversation they'd had.

'_Guy! Get down here!'_

'_You called, cousin?'_

'_Yes', said George, who had returned to his desk, 'I need you to do something for me.'_

_Guy looked at him expectantly, though inwardly dreading what his deranged cousin wanted him to do now._

'_I just had an interesting chat with an army Captain – his name's Perry, I think – and he told me that the Locksley twit's been gathering forces in Sherwood Forest. I told him to go and arrest her, but since she's already proved to be quite slippery, I'd like to have a back up plan. That's where you come in.' He looked pointedly at the other._

'_What do you have in mind?' Guy asked, actually not wanting to know at all._

'_I want you to gather every scrap of information there is about Locksley's relatives, servants, friends, the lot. There's bound to be something among it we can use as a means of…persuasion for her to surrender, should she become a real nuisance. Especially that servant girl; Sarah. She was looking at me funnily that day Locksley sneaked into the city. Better yet, have that one followed.' George was obviously still brooding over the offence._

'_I trust I can leave all that to you?' He added, raising his eyebrows at his cousin._

'_Of course. I'll handle it.' Guy answered, his features seemingly made of stone._

'_Good.' George waved his hand towards the door; the audience was clearly over. Guy turned and went for the door. When he'd reached it, George called out to him._

'_Oh, and Guy? Make sure you go about it inconspicuously.'_

_The other nodded solemnly. 'As always, cousin.'_

And that was what he had been doing for the past few days; using every possible source to collect information. He also had one of his most skilled spies tail the servant girl. He silently went over the already acquired information once more. As was already known, the Locksleys weren't wealthy by a long shot, and so had precious few servants – only Sarah and Duncan, to be exact. And as Sarah was being continuously observed already, and Duncan was just an ignorant boy who posed no threat and could easily be manipulated later on, that area of his research had been quickly covered. Next, he had explored the category of relatives. There was only one of those worth mentioning, since both father and brother were in Jerusalem; the girl's aunt, her father's sister. Her name was Rosalind, and she was at least fourteen years her brother's senior. She lived in London, and hadn't been in contact with her brother and his children since he had refused to hand over their care after his wife had died. They had had a blazing row because Rosalind had thought it highly inappropriate for a man alone to raise two children.

Since his cousin was keeping everything that had to do with the Locksley affair hush-hush, Guy didn't think it likely that the old lady knew anything about her niece's antics. And because of their lack of contact, he didn't think Robin would ask her for help anytime soon either.

Having concluded this piece of his task, Guy continued to the last part; friends and acquaintances. Luckily, all of Locksley's friends had gone with him on his crusade, and because of her tomboy upbringing Robin herself had always had very few friends. Lastly, the few acquaintances that remained could be bought with gold, something that the Sheriff himself was taking care of.

Making sure all the information was carefully filed away in his memory again, Guy proceeded to pondering other things: his cousin for instance. The man was becoming increasingly obsessed with the Locksley girl, and his overall behaviour had become more erratic than ever. Guy wasn't sure he would be able to contain him anymore if he decided to do something really stupid. All he could do was to be vigilant and try to squash every outrageous idea before it could fully blossom. Needless to say it was taking a lot out of him. When he was younger he'd never have thought he'd be a fulltime babysitter when he was thirty. Of course, he'd never have thought he'd be so tightly bound by his insane cousin either. If only he hadn't got into that horrible mess seven years ago. How different his life would've been…

_You know that everything that's happened is your own fault. You're a weakling. Don't deny it._

Guy groaned, and squeezed his eyes shut in a vain attempt to silence the small voice in his mind. He could fool himself and blame everything on circumstances, but it was never long before the voice of his conscience spoke up, and reminded him of the truth: that he was in this predicament because of his own lack of character.

At this realization he was flooded with guilt and frustration over his blatant cowardice, and wished – as he had done a thousand times before – that he was better man. To avoid spiralling into depression by these dark thoughts, Guy turned on his side in an effort to go to sleep. Just before drifting off, he had the nagging feeling he would sooner or later be forced to face his difficulties.

* * *

As time progressed, the colony in Sherwood Forest acquired more and more self-esteem. Nothing could have contrasted more with the chill of the arriving winter than the atmosphere in the village. This was due to the fact that they had successfully intercepted each and every one of the Sheriff's convoys and messengers so far, as well as any occasional travellers. Because of the continuous practice, Robin's men had grown more confident in their ambushing and fighting skills, and many of the stratagems thought out by John, Wulf and Robin had nearly been perfected. Secondly, the loot also added to the good cheer among the people. They had got their hands on large amounts of information and supplies, and by economically distributing these between themselves and the peasants outside the Forest, they ensured their own survival as well as the sympathy of a large portion of the population in the Nottingham area.

In other words, life in the Treevillage wasn't bad. They had of course been forced to ration the food, but they had more than enough water and wood for warmth and weapons. Their circumstances were probably even favourable to those of regular peasants. But those people weren't stupid. Quite a number of them had tried to get into the Forest, and in the beginning, the people who were a direct relation to an outlaw already inside were readily accepted. But then they started to come from farther away. Despite the outlaws' arguments that they were safer and more needed on the outside, they pleaded to be allowed to enter. It broke Robin's heart, but to keep the community from becoming overcrowded and unmanageable, she and John decided that the limit of the Forests capacity had been reached. To admit more people, they stated, would jeopardize the safety of all who resided within the Forest, because the resulting village would become to large to remain hidden from the scouts the Sheriff continuously sent into their area. All people who came knocking on their proverbial door were offered this explanation, and were told to return to their homes.

Because the stream of applicants didn't abate, it was commonly decided to hand out larger quantities of food and money in the villages; partly to soften the ache of rejection, and partly to let as much people as possible survive the winter.

All these hard decisions were made by a small amount of people, and while these troubles didn't weigh heavy on the minds of most of the outlaws, Robin and her direct circle didn't experience Forest-life to be as blissfully happy as the others.

'Ugh, I never knew starting a rebellion would bring this much work.'

Robin stretched out on a bench near the fire pit in the middle of village clearing. She raised her arms above her head until her spine cracked satisfyingly, making Wulf cringe.

'Please don't do tha' again', he said, sitting down on the ground next to Robin, 'But really, what did ye expect? To just say to the Sheriff: "I'm _dreadfully _sorry, but we don't agree with your policy and we'd much rather you'd refrain from terrorizing us", and be done with it? Sorry to disappoint ye, but in that case yer gonna get a lot more than ye bargained for.'

Robin scowled at her bushy-haired companion.

'You know perfectly well that's not what I meant. I just didn't think I'd have to deal with almost a hundred people looking at me to decide what they should do next, and tell a hundred others that they're not wanted. Not to mention keeping track of food, money, info, the Sheriff…', Robin trailed off.

Wulf frowned. 'Well, I'm sorry, but ye should've thought of tha' before ye started this thing.'

Robin could hear the slight annoyance in his voice, and quietly amended:

'I'm sorry, Wulf. I didn't mean to whine like that. It's just that it's a bit much at the moment. I know you and your father share the responsibility with me, and I'm really grateful, I am', she turned her head to look at him tiredly, 'I just feel as if I could sleep for the remainder of the winter and still be tired. It feels like I have this never-ending list of things to do in my head, repeating itself over and over and over…'

Wulf turned and took a good look at his younger friend. It had been a while since he'd done that. For the past few weeks, they had mostly spoken to each other in the regular meetings they held, while outside of those, they were running around giving orders, coordinating excursions and supervising numerous tasks. Of course, he was tired as well, but now he could take in his friend's haggard appearance, he could see that the whirlwind pace at which things went was demanding too much of her. Her hair hung limply past her shoulders, and hadn't seen a comb in ages. She had huge bags below her eyes, which in turn were dark with exhaustion. She was pale, and had lost some weight, as far as Wulf could tell through the dirty, wrinkled clothes she was wearing. He suddenly felt bad for getting irritated with her. His voice softened when he spoke next.

'It's ok. You had no way of knowing this thing was going to be so big. But neither did we. Da' and I are working with you, and you know we'll be there for you when something's wrong. But we just have to get through this. If it makes you feel better, I think it's going to be a week at the most until the real winter sets in. All activity will come to a halt then, and you can hibernate all you want. All right?'

Robin nodded, and chuckled at his last choice of words. It again struck her how his accent had vanished, and she made a mental note to ask him about it as soon as she had the time and energy. They continued to sit in companionable silence, but it wasn't long before their peace was disturbed.

An arrow landed near the bench on which the two young friends were sitting, and it was followed by Notch' loud shout.

'ROBIN! There's another set o' people tryin' to find us! Ye better come an' give 'em the chat!'

Robin groaned, then stood up grumbling. Wulf gave her a compassionate look when she took a deep breath and yelled back: 'Coming, Notch! Stall them until I get there!'

A yell of assent was heard, and Robin turned to Wulf.

'What would they ever do without me?' She asked, with a wry smile.

The boy laughed and shook his head. 'Probably still sittin' in their dingy huts, listenin' to their grumblin' bellies and insultin' the Sheriff.'

Robin waved goodbye at him, and couldn't help but notice that his accent had returned with a vengeance.

Robin joined Notch – who had already climbed down from the watch tower – and his fellow watchmen, who were talking heatedly with a group of ten raggedy-looking people.

'Care to fill me in, Notch?'

'Ah, Robin!' the burly man said, smiling at her, 'These people wanna come 'n live in the village. I told 'em te wait for you, but they kept pushin' through. We tried to stall 'em as long as possible.' He added in a whisper.

Robin nodded and turned to face the group, opening her mouth to say something, but she was cut off by the largest man in the group, who was clearly the leader.

'So _yer_ Robin Hood? I expected someone more impressive than this… girl.'

Notch and his friends made to leap at her defence, but Robin gestured for them to calm down. She looked the man in the face, the customary warmth in her eyes cooling considerably.

'Well, then surely you won't be offended when I say that I myself am _most_ unimpressed by _your_ appearance? Why exactly, do you wish to enter our village?' How dare the man behave like this, when he was only here to _request_ something? Robin was definitely not in the mood to be insulted.

The man pulled himself up to his albeit intimidating height, and looked down his nose at her.

'Cause obviously, you people here have everything you could ever want, while we're outside, starvin'. That's not very fair, don't ye think? So we demand to be let into your safe hideout.' He looked very pleased with himself, while his companions spoke out their assent.

Robin raised her eyebrows. 'First of all, I don't know where you heard all that rubbish about us living some sort of heavenly life, but I assure you, it's nothing like it. We have worked very hard to accomplish what we have, and we still do. Our lives are not that much better than yours, because we divide a large portion of our supplies among the outside villages, as you full well know. Besides, you don't look as if you're in desperate need of feeding.' Robin made a show of looking the man up and down, causing him to flush.

'Secondly, you are not in any position whatsoever to be _demanding_ things. Not to act superior or anything, but I'd say we do quite a lot for you people. So by behaving this way you're not really helping your case. Lastly, and most importantly, our village is full. We've already turned down a lot of people, so it would be grossly unfair to let you in. If we allow any more to settle here, we're bound to be discovered by the Sheriff. We're in constant danger already. So in the end, you'll be safer on the outside.'

During Robin's explanation, the man had grown more and more angry, and his companions were grumbling dissatisfiedly as well. It seemed he had taken in nothing apart from Robin's refusal, and was positively fuming by now. When she finished talking, he exploded.

'So yer sayin' we're not wanted here! Well listen te me, ye scrawny little excuse fer a woman; me and my family are not just gonna turn around and go home! We deserve to enjoy the wealth just as much as you do! So go back in there and get us the _real_ leader of this rabble, ye good-fer-nothin' ugly little twit! Now get, before I make ye wish ye never been born!' He shouted, advancing on Robin while being encouraged by his companions.

Robin, in the exhausted state she was, was thoroughly shaken by the man's sudden outburst, and stumbled backwards. Luckily, Notch and the others stepped in front of her to stop the man. But he was very strong, and when it seemed her friends would not be able to contain him, Robin turned and fled, panic flooding her tired mind. When she ran, she thought she heard Will's voice imperiously commanding the man to calm himself, and then proceeding to give him and his companions a very vicious tongue-lashing. Where had he come from, anyway? She didn't hear the end of the ordeal, because she disappeared behind a very large tree. She leaned against it and slid down, her body shaking violently. Moments later she had wrapped her arms around herself, crying.

Interested in the conversation, Will had hovered in the background. He was content just to watch, and not draw any attention to himself. But when he had witnessed the scene escalating, and Notch and his equally stupid burly friends seemingly unable to restrain the man, he had felt the need to step in. He may not like the girl, but to see such a large, furious man bear down on her, scaring her into fleeing, was an insult to his sense of justice.

Taking a deep breath, he stepped forward, and gave the man a sound slap on the cheek. Abruptly, he stopped yelling and looked at Will incredulously. In turn, Will adorned his most frighteningly severe gaze and spoke, his voice dangerously low.

'Good, now shut up and listen. You and your sorry excuse for a family are going to turn around and get back under the rock you crawled underneath from, and are going to _never_ come back here.'

Will advanced until he was only an inch from the man's face.

'Count yourselves lucky we don't know which pigsty you call a village you belong to, or you'd be completely _without_ any further support from us.' He narrowed his eyes. 'Insulting and attacking that girl is the stupidest thing you've ever done, you fat bastard. You better watch your step from now on, or you'll find one of these men standing behind you, and trust me, they'll let their fists do the talking, unlike me. So I suggest you get your ugly, pathetic, utterly _disgusting_ presence out of my face, before I call in some reinforcements who would just _love_ to paint your face. Do I make myself clear?' He added acidly.

The man had paled considerably, and was alternately eyeing Will and Notch and the others, who were growling murderously. Deciding to not underestimate his opponents, he turned on his heel and yelled at his family to get a move on, and that they didn't want to stay in this decaying Forest anyway. Will rolled his eyes, and told Notch to take his gang and escort their 'visitors' to the far end of the Forest.

'And make sure they never find their way back here.' He added in a whisper. After seeing the group off, he turned to find Robin. He told himself he was just going to check on her for the village's sake, but the annoying voice that kept coming up on the most inopportune of moments said that he just wanted to make sure she was ok. He chose to ignore that particular remark, and stalked in the direction he had seen her take.

'There you are. I thought you'd be busy being coddled by Wulf right now.'

'Wh-what are you doing here?' Robin stood up, furiously wiping her eyes and not meeting his gaze.

'What does it look like? I'm here to see whether this rebellion will be needing a new leader anytime soon.' She still wouldn't look at him. Did she honestly think he couldn't see she'd been crying? She then turned away completely, and replied in a tight voice:

'Well, now that you've done that, you can go back to tell everyone that and leave me the hell alone.'

Will chose to ignore her remark. 'Wow, that's the first time I've seen you be anything less than pleasantly polite. It's quite the change I must say.'

Robin whirled around. 'Look, if you're just here to annoy me, then trust me, I don't get much more annoyed than I am right now. So if you have nothing else to offer, just piss off.'

'Oh? You'd rather I pat your arm and simpered on about how the big bad men have gone away and everything is fine? I'm sorry, but I don't pity you at all.'

'Good, because that's the last thing I need. I don't need anyone's pity, and I certainly don't need my arm being molested by the one person who hates me.'

'Well, you're acting quite pitiful right now. Pull yourself together, girl. You should know already that the world isn't filled with nice people who dote upon you.' When she remained silent, he couldn't help but add: 'And I doubt I'm the one who hates you the most.'

Robin raised an eyebrow, now distracted from her inner turmoil, which Will found unexpectedly pleasing.

'Right. And who do you think _does_ hate me most?'

'Right now? That would have to be the despicable man that you so harshly rejected a short while ago. But in general, I think that would be the Sheriff.'

Robin smiled, forgetting the dislike she normally felt for the young man she was talking to. When he was being this witty, he was actually quite interesting to be around.

'I guess you're right.' After a silence, something struck her. 'What did you do to those people, anyway? Where have they gone?'

Will shrugged. 'I finished what you started, and told them to go back home and to not come looking for us ever again. Not that they'll be able to; I told Notch and the others to take them on a trip through the Forest until they no longer know which way is home.' He smiled maliciously at this.

Robin couldn't help but chuckle. 'You're really mean, you know that?'

'Well, I don't hear you complaining. It was either this or let the poor bloke's face be reshaped by Notch, or even worse, by John if he'd come to see what was going on.'

'Nonsense! Why would he do that? Notch wouldn't hurt a fly, and neither would John!' Robin looked outraged at the mere suggestion, but Will only laughed at her.

'Normally, I'd agree with you. But it seems that when you're concerned, every damn guy around here suddenly fancies himself your protector.' He could barely keep the unwanted jealousy out of his voice, and added hurriedly: 'Except for me, of course.'

He could see the abashed smile that had appeared on Robin's face disappear at his last words, and felt yet another unbidden surge of emotion; regret. What the blazes was wrong with him! He should finish this conversation as soon as possible, before he lost his mind…

'Yes, of course.' Robin replied, her voice distinctly cooler than it had been. 'How could I forget; though you don't hate me most, you still hate me, right?' She looked at him coldly. Will inwardly cringed, and cursed himself for it at the same time. He struggled to keep an indifferent façade, and said offhandedly:

'That I do. Well, since you're clearly back to your old annoying self again, I have more important things to do than entertaining you.' He nodded stiffly, turned on his heel, and left.

As soon as he was out of sight, he dropped his mask. He could barely keep from tearing out his hair out of frustration. Why was it that she always made him say the wrong things? Things had gone relatively well, until he had _had_ to go and put his foot in it. Chances at a truce were now shaky at best, all thanks to him. He remained in a foul mood the entire day.

Why did he have to go and be that mean all of a sudden? They'd finally been having something resembling a civil conversation, and he had to ruin it with another of his hurtful remarks. She didn't understand him at all. She'd asked quite a few people about him, but he still remained an enigma. And on top of it all, she found herself incapable of just hating him back and be done with it. On the plus side though, they'd proved they could communicate without going at eachother's throats right away. She'd have to try and build on that. But presently, that didn't change much of the situation. She sighed in exasperation, and made to walk back to the village, deep in thought.

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N/A: This chapter ended up being a bit longer than the others. I just couldn't end the scene earlier. Not that you'll be complaining, right? Consider this to be a bit of compensation for the embarrassingly long wait. -.-;

Toodles!


	14. A myriad of questions

N/A: So... not much to say, really. Just that I passed my exams and am extremely happy about it and that I felt the sudden urge to follow Speak Out's suggestion about updating faster. ;)

Thanks a million to: **Jnr Cpl Scarlett**, **Greenwood Elf**, **Asheseth**, **Speak Out** and **Entertainedbygrass**: I read the Author's Note again, and you were right. I modified it a bit now. Thanks for telling me!

And overall, thanks so much to all of you for reviewing!

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**Chapter thirteen: A myriad of questions**

After returning to the village, Robin hadn't told Wulf about her conversation with Will. Because Will hadn't mentioned it to anyone else either, she followed his lead and did the same. Some people had noticed that they had disappeared around the same time, but when an explanation wasn't offered, they merely shrugged and forgot about it.

Luckily for Robin, Wulf's weather prediction had been very accurate. Within five days the wind had turned noticeably colder, and the first snow fell after another five. It had started in the dead of night, falling silently and coating everything in at least two inches of the cold white stuff. The large flakes had kept on falling for two more days straight, bringing all activity not concerning survival to a grinding halt. The few children in the camp, along with quite a number of the adults, had seized the opportunity to play in the snow.

On the second day, when Robin had exited her tree house in the morning, she saw immediately that performing her duties would be impossible due to the heavy snowfall. Without a word, she had turned around, and had gone back to bed. She wasn't seen again until late afternoon the next day. In the meantime, people had noticed that their usually omnipresent leader wasn't there, and had encouraged Wulf to go and check on her. He had initially come to notify Robin that she was needed by some people, but reconsidered when he saw the exhausted sleep Robin was in. He had left silently, and had expressly forbidden anyone to bother her until she came back by herself. He figured he and his father would be able to substitute for her.

Will had also noticed her absence. He had carefully avoided and ignored Robin in the past ten days, but in order to do that successfully, he needed to always know where she was. When she hadn't appeared that morning, and had failed to do so the next day as well, a part of him wondered if it was an aftereffect of their fight. Another part of him scoffed at the idea, and reasoned that it must be the exhaustion he had seen on Robin's face finally taking it's toll. Though this was the more logical explanation, he couldn't help but wonder, feeling an occasional twinge of guilt.

When Robin finally woke up again in the afternoon, she felt rested for the first time in at least four weeks. She stretched leisurely, and got out of bed, rubbing the sand out of her eyes. Standing, she brushed her hair back and upon feeling the filthy state it was in, decided to take a thorough bath. Reluctant to leave her house, Robin gathered whatever snow she could through her window, and proceeded to melt it above the small fire she had kept going since temperatures had become negative. She then rummaged around in a large (stolen) chest now containing her belongings instead of its original owner's, and gave a hum of satisfaction when she came up with a large bar of soap. After readying everything for the upcoming bath, she started to try and brush the tangles out of her dark red hair that was now almost elbow length, waiting for the water to heat up. By the time the water was ready to be poured into the basin, Robin had managed to undo all the minor tangles, but had to give up on the four-or-so (very) large ones. Knowing that washing her hair wouldn't solve the problem, she took her dagger and simply cut them clean off. She found that the act didn't feel nearly as horrible as the first time she had done it, but maybe that was also because she now had much more important things to worry about.

After securely bolting the door, Robin undressed completely and bowed her head into the basin. She washed her hair repeatedly with soap until the strain on her back became unbearable, and grabbed a towel to wind her squeaky-clean hair atop her head. Though the water had by now considerably darkened, she proceeded by taking a wash cloth and vigorously scrubbing her entire body as well.

She had never thought she would be taking a bath of her own volition. _Sarah would be so proud of me!_ She chuckled, and succumbed to the memories of her trusted servant, starting to softly sing an old childhood lullaby of Sarah's in the process.

"Go to sleep and you will find

All your dreams come true,

Close your eyes and you will see

All that you desire.

What colour will tomorrow be?

Wait and see…"

Suddenly feeling a chill coming from the still open window, Robin was drawn out of her memories and reached for a second, larger towel. _I do hope Sarah's alright. I really miss her._

After drying off, she wound a new set of bandages around her chest, liking how they kept her bosom firmly in place. She then donned a fresh set of undergarments, and finally selected some dark brown leather trousers and a burgundy-coloured, heavy tunic. Lastly, she dumped the dirty clothes she had worn for _at least_ three weeks in the now murky water to soak. Satisfied, she proceeded to rub her hair dry once more and hesitatingly tried to slide a comb through it, waiting for the obstruction of another tangle. Thankfully, there weren't any, and Robin was assessing the damage her cutting off chunks of tangled hair had done. After examining it a while in the make-shift mirror, she decided it wasn't all that bad. It added a sort of layered effect to her hair, and gave it more volume. She cut off some more strands to make both sides equal, and finished by tying the upper part back so it wouldn't obstruct her vision.

Satisfied with her appearance, Robin slipped into her trusty old boots and pulled on a thick cloak, and finally felt confident and refreshed enough to confront the world again.

* * *

Will was just returning from using the … necessities, and was passing a clutter of tree houses on his way back to the clearing, when a soft song drifted down to him. The gentle voice compelled him to stand still and listen, and it was only when the sound died away, that he could bring himself to walk on. From a little further away, he turned to take a good look at the house where the song had come from. At least, where he _thought_ it had come from. But since that particular house was the only one with an open window on the side where he'd been standing, Will dared to think his guess was accurate. He then started wondering who the house belonged to. He inwardly cursed himself for not paying more attention to his peers, because now he had no clue where each of them lived. But since his curiosity was insatiable, he knew there was nothing he could do except waiting for someone to enter or leave it in a way that left no doubt about ownership. Having made this decision, he walked on to the clearing, and sat down on the tree stump near the fire he had left ten minutes before.

Since there was no real community hut, a group of men had erected a temporary roof over a large part of the clearing, including the fire pit. Now large groups could remain outside even when the snow fell, and Wat could still use the large fire to cook meals.

Will continued his work of making arrows much like he had before, with one small change; every so often he now stole a glance at a certain tree house. While doing this mindless job, he contemplated the singer. He was positive it was a woman; the voice had been too high to be a man's. But other than that, he had no clue. The sound had been too soft for him to recognise anyone's voice, not that he ever paid attention to others' voices anyway. But one thing he did know; the song had touched him.

As Will finished his fourth or so arrow, Watt had come to poke up the fire and begin his preparations for that evening's dinner. Steadily, more people joined them, driven out of their houses by their stomachs. Thinking he'd done enough for the day, Will packed away his equipment and took a perch on the outskirts of the roofed area. With the growing crowd, viewing the tree house had become near impossible. Finally, when the smell of that night's stew began wafting through the village, signalling the imminent start of dinner, his patience was rewarded.

At last someone exited the house. Upon recognising the cloaked figure, Will was dumbstruck. He wasn't sure who he had expected, but the source of the majority of his inner turmoil had definitely not been it. _Robin. Again._ He groaned, closing his eyes briefly. _Why is it always her? Why can't I do anything without that obnoxious bi-, twi-, _person_ interfering?_

Will noticed to late that Robin was walking right at him, since he was directly facing her tree house. He had been looking at her all this time, making Robin increasingly self-conscious. By the time he noticed his own odd behaviour, the girl had come too close to him for an escape.

'So', Will blurted out, jumping at the only thing he was good at: prickly comments. 'decided to join the world of the living again, have we?' He attempted a smirk, praying his lack of composure wasn't too obvious.

Robin began to scowl, and almost gave a nasty retort, when she decided she wouldn't let him spoil her good mood. Her face relaxed again, and then settled into a smirk as well.

'Yes. I couldn't very well leave you alone for _another_ day, could I? Who knows what you would've done without my person around to loathe! God forbid you having to keep your witty insults inside', She looked at him with exaggerated fright on her face. 'Saved your life, didn't I?' She added, before giving him a wink and walking on to find Wulf and John, leaving him searching for words that wouldn't come.

Robin was quite pleased with the way she'd handled the situation. Will had unsettled her with his staring, and had stolen away her confidence as well. By taking over the conversation the way she had, Robin had regained her feeling of security, _and_ had managed to render him speechless without being too mean. All in all, she was very happy with herself when she continued to look for the two Littles.

She finally spotted them near the fire, laughing and joking with Wat, Notch and a few others. Wulf was the first to notice her presence. He could definitely see the good 24 hours of sleep had done her. The bags under her eyes had all but disappeared, she looked much more alert and she had obviously taken her time washing up. He smiled happily at her; even though it had only been two days, he had missed her continuous presence. Not that otherwise they were always together, but he knew she was _there_.

'Hey, Robin!' Wulf greeted cheerfully, when she sat down on the bench, wedging herself in the small space between him and his father. 'Feel better now?'

'Yes, much.' Robin replied, greeting John and the others as well.

'Well, ye needed it.' John said in his deep, gruff voice, and turned to look at her sternly. 'Don't let it come this far again. If ye need a break, just tell us so. Besides, yer of much better use to us if yer fit.'

Robin nodded, suddenly feeling very much like a scolded child. 'I will, John. Thanks.'

Satisfied, John sat back and continued his conversation with his friends.

Robin and Wulf sat together in comfortable silence for a while. Robin contently observed the bustling crowd around them and finally settled her gaze on Will, who was still in the same spot and had his back towards her.

'Has he done anythin' to ye?' Wulf asked, obviously having noticed who Robin was looking at.

Robin shook her head, not looking at her friend. 'No. He's been avoiding me for almost two weeks now.'

'Since the incident with the outsiders, you mean.'

Now she did look.

'I might be a lot o' things, Robin, but I'm not stupid.' Wulf looked at her searchingly. 'Notch told me the entire story: how the man – we now know his name is Gill – attacked ye, and you ran away. How Will took charge an' then was seen leavin' in the direction you'd gone as well.' He became even more serious. 'It wasn't until half an hour later tha' either of ye was seen again. What are ye not tellin' me?'

Robin squirmed under his intense scrutiny, not really knowing what to say. _Oh dear, how am I going to get out of this one?_

'H-he came to find me, we talked a bit, and we returned to the village, separately.' _Now why did you have to add that word!_ _It's not like he's implying you're having an affair…_

_Where the hell did _that _come from! _

Robin inwardly swore and fought off a blush, and looked at Wulf from under her eyelashes to gauge his reaction.

'Are ye sure that's all? He didn't insult ye, or harm ye, or threaten ye?' The scepticism was audible in his voice, making Robin cringe a bit. 'Because if I have te find out from someone _else_ tha' he did do somethin', I'm gonna kick his ass inta next week.'

Robin's eyes snapped up to meet Wulf's. 'You can't do that!' _Why am I protesting this much?_ 'A-and besides, you won't have to, because _nothing_ happened.' She looked beseechingly at her older friend.

He examined her face very closely again, intent on any lies. After a few agonizing moments, he nodded.

'Alright. I trust ye. But know that I'd be very disappointed if I learned otherwise later on.'

Robin hated herself at that moment, and tried to soften her previous statement. 'Well…' she felt Wulf tense, 'some things were said, but it wasn't too bad. And I'd rather you didn't do anything about it, because if you do, I'll never be able to make peace with him.'

'Why does tha' matter so much to ye, anyway? He's done nothin' but insult ye since ye came here, and yer still tryin' to make amends over somethin' tha' was _his_ fault to begin with!' Wulf had grown frustrated by now, and had started raising his voice before he caught himself and lowered it again. He struggled to calm down so as not to make a scene.

Robin pondered his question for a moment, but for the life of her couldn't answer it.

'I don't know, Wulf. But I'll find out.'

The bushy-haired boy opened his mouth as if to say something, but decided against it when he saw that his companion's eyes were once again resting on a certain man's back.

* * *

N/A: So, chapter thirteen! Sorry that nothing major actually happened in it, but I felt like these scenes were needed before the next surge of events. I hope I'll get to finish chapter fourteen before my move, holiday – and more importantly – the arrival of HP6, because I'd hate to leave you with an unlucky 13… 


	15. News both unexpected and unwelcome

N/A: Soooo, hehe. I obviously didn't make my deadline, and the posting of this chapter was even more delayed because my lack of internet in my new home… I hope I've made up for it with the length of this instalment. So, please don't be mad and enjoy the show. .;

Yet again, a huge thanks to the reviewers, you rock!

* * *

**Chapter fourteen: News both unexpected and unwelcome**

Following that particular conversation with Robin, Wulf had taken to observing her interaction with Will more closely. It was strange to see that, though they were both always busy with numerous small tasks, they bumped into each other at least twice an hour. The longer Wulf watched he could see that neither seemed to do it on purpose, nor were any pleasant words exchanged between them. Apparently, they had settled for snide jokes and sarcastic comments that sometimes were really hurtful. Only the strangest thing was that neither Robin nor Will was taking them seriously.

As winter progressed – and Wulf kept watching – he never caught them doing anything inappropriate, which didn't keep him from being insanely jealous. Not that he would ever admit to it, of course. It wasn't that he was _in love_ with Robin or anything, just that she clearly shared a private type of humour with Will, and it somehow stung him that she couldn't do that with him. He had found in Robin his best friend ever: he trusted her enough to feel safe to tell her anything, both intellectual and less intellectual things. She didn't laugh at him and valued his words. They also had tons of fun together.

But clearly, it wasn't enough for her. Wulf knew he was being unfair; that he couldn't forbid her to talk to Will, but God knew he felt the urge often enough. He just couldn't understand her when she said those things, like there was something there that he couldn't grasp, like there was a different side to Robin that he'd never seen before. And that scared him. He'd come to think that he knew Robin as well as he knew himself, but now it was pointed out that he didn't. Robin didn't freely volunteer information about herself – however trivial it may be – and Wulf had thought he'd gotten all there was to get. It hurt to see that he was wrong.

* * *

A small sun was doing its best to warm the snow-covered ground of the Forest. What it lacked in strength it made up for in enthusiasm, and though it didn't succeed in its effort, it did cause a general uplifting of spirits. The sky was blue; the sun was shining and despite the fact that it was still as cold as ever, the winter didn't seem so harsh anymore.

It certainly was a change from January, which had been mostly dark and depressing. That month had really hacked into their supply of firewood, and now the weather was improving no time was wasted to replenish the stock. Due to the strict rationing of the food, there was no problem in that area. But the rations hadn't been very large, so such a good day for hunting was also taken with both hands. In short, the sun could be very proud of its accomplishment; the village was once more bustling with outdoor activity.

Since most mothers had been cooped up inside with their bored children for a month, they didn't hesitate to grasp the opportunity for an excursion into the Forest – even if it was to collect firewood. There was of course the small dilemma of what to do with their children, but this was soon solved when Robin walked in their line of sight.

With nothing else to do during the bad weather, she had worked diligently on the rebels' attack and defence strategies. Those were now more or less perfected, leaving Robin with nothing particularly pressing to do.

The plotting mothers seized their chance and before Robin could say a word, she was left watching over at least five or six small children ranging from a baby to an eight-year-old. When it came to small children, Robin hadn't dealt with those since she'd been one herself, and even then only in moderation. She didn't have a clue how she was supposed divide her attention between all of them. The mothers had decided to take full advantage of their situation, and would clearly stay away all morning. They counted on their children's fascination with the female leader to keep them from running off. Luckily for Robin, their assumption was right, but that did mean the infants would nag at her the entire morning.

She was just trying to listen interestedly at little Beth's story about the time she'd found a "twin-acorn", when Will walked onto the scene. At first he looked confused, but soon smirked evilly when he thought of the perfect taunting opportunity this situation presented. He casually walked over, already anticipating a fantastic verbal sparring. He had stopped himself from thinking altogether about the unfamiliar reactions the girl evoked in him, and had decided that as long as it didn't cause immediate harm to his person, he might as well enjoy it.

'Well, well. You didn't strike me as the motherly type at all, _Locksley_. Guess I was wrong.' He knew how much she hated being called that, which was his only reason for doing so in the first place.

Robin groaned. _Not him… Please, not right now._ She sighed; realising there was no turning away the inevitable and raised her eyes to meet those of her tormenter. _Don't exaggerate; you seek these fights just as much as he does._ There was no escaping her inner voice, and she inwardly hung her head in consent. _Yes, but not right _now_. Can't he just let one slide for once?_ But she already knew the answer: never. Accepting defeat when it smiled her in the face, she decided to go with it as best she could. She'd get back to him for this eventually.

'Yes, well you're wrong about a great many things, so no surprise there, right? So unless you came here to take _at least_ three of these urchins of my hands, please save you're witticisms for another time.'

Will merely chuckled, not in the slightest about to honour her request. Instead he stayed exactly where he was, inspecting his nails nonchalantly.

'Nah, I don't think I will. This is a once in a lifetime occasion.'

'Oh yeah? How so?' Robin answered, preoccupied with grabbing a small hand before it poked her in the nose.

'Oh, I don't know. Just that I don't think you do this type of feminine activity very often.' Will glanced away from his fingers, wanting to catch the reaction his words would elicit.

Robin controlled her rising irritation, and said coldly: 'So now I'm not feminine? What's next, the accusation that I'm a man after all?'

Will merely snorted. 'Of course not. Not even Notch could make that mistake, and he has the intelligence of the average potato. I just meant that you rarely do any of the things other women do.'

Robin felt strangely insulted. She was feminine enough! While prying her hair loose from the hand of some toddler whose name she'd forgotten, she protested:

'I _am_ feminine! Just because I don't wear dresses, knit, sew or know how to cook doesn't make me some kind of "man-woman". I do plenty of womanly things.' She sulked a bit, trying for all she was worth to find some evidence of her statement.

'Like what?' Will chuckled, knowing he'd struck a sore spot. 'All I've ever heard you do was sing an old lullaby.'

Mortified silence hung between them for a while at his words; for Robin because no one had been supposed to hear that, for Will because he might as well have said he'd been spying on her. He didn't know where to look, and felt his cheeks flush. How on earth could he have been so stupid! This was exactly one of those things _no one should know about._ Oh boy, he'd fouled up royally this time…

'How did you know that?' Robin finally asked him with a tiny voice. He could barely hear her over the children's noise; they were still completely oblivious to the mood-change that had occurred.

Will frantically searched his mind for a plausible reason, and when he couldn't find one, he merely said:

'So… you don't know how to cook?' He closed his eyes, wishing Robin would fall for the distraction, to no avail.

'Don't change the subject,' she said, a little firmer this time, 'When did you hear me sing that song? I only did it a few times when I was in my house.'

Will remained silent, feeling the conversation slipping through his fingers. When glanced up to Robin's face, she held his gaze and demanded:

'Tell me.'

For some reason, Will couldn't refuse and hesitatingly began to explain.

'It was in December. I was walking back to the clearing when I heard the song come through your window.'

Robin was struck by how Will had completely lost his normal attitude and arrogance, but at the moment she had bigger fish to fry.

'Am I supposed to just believe that? How do I know you don't just sneak up to my house and spy on me while I take a bath!' She fought to keep her voice low.

After a while, Will shrugged helplessly. 'I guess you can't,' he looked her in the eye again, 'you're just going to have to trust me on this.'

Robin managed to keep herself from laughing. It wasn't that funny anyway. 'But I don't have that much reason to, do I?'

Will sighed and sat down facing Robin. 'No, you don't. And that's entirely my fault. But there is one thing you should know: I have as much reason to fight against the Sheriff as you, and as much as it pains me to admit it, I don't think we could continue this without you. And because of that, I would never intentionally hurt you,' he dragged his hand through his hair, feeling distinctly uncomfortable now but ploughing on anyway, 'I've even come to respect you in some odd way. Don't ask me when that happened, because I sure don't have a clue.'

When he saw Robin wanted to say something, he added:

'Still doesn't mean I like you, though,' he felt a change of subject was in order, and continued: 'So what's with the cooking? You still haven't answered my question about that.'

He managed to produce a cocky grin that was still only half of what he was normally capable of.

Robin decided to drop the subject, knowing from experience that this confession had taken Will a great deal of effort. He had trusted her with his pride; supplying her with the only way she could believe he had been telling the truth about how he had heard the lullaby. And for that she appreciated his disguised peace-offering even more; because that's what it actually was, a clever way to bury the hatchet. She decided to allow Will his dignity and merely answered:

'Just like I said: I don't know how to.'

Grateful that she was playing along, Will reverted back to his old self in no time.

'You really don't? What is the world coming to if a woman can't even set food on the table anymore? How will you ever find a man?'

He looked at her mockingly. Robin narrowed her eyes at him, ignoring the child that was once again pulling on her hair.

'For your information, I was never meant to learn that. We had _servants_ to do that for us. So that would never have posed a problem for me finding a husband,' Robin raised her chin defiantly, 'Not that I'm looking for one, anyway.'

Will chuckled. 'Not right _now_, you're not, but what about in a few years? And I doubt you'll find one in the high society you're talking about, because I don't think they'll be to pleased to have a wife who is considered an outlaw, has a prize on her head, and has lived in the Forest for a week with nothing but men!'

Robin protested blushingly. 'Oi! Nothing happened in that week, and it still isn't. I'm not _that_ stupid. And I don't expect I'll be an outlaw long when King Richard returns.'

'Aha! So you do admit you're at least a bit stupid. I knew it all along,' Robin rolled her eyes at this, but Will paid her no heed, 'But seriously, you still think the Lionheart is going to return? Don't you think that's a bit naïve? He's been gone for over six years. My guess is the Saracens killed him, him and his entire bloody army. Waste of precious money, if you ask me.'

Robin remained quiet for a while, then raised her eyes to meet Will's.

'It may be naïve… but I can't stop believing he'll return. Because if he doesn't, neither will my father or brother.'

In that moment, Will caught a glimpse of the magnitude of Robin's worry for her family. He suddenly felt horrible for talking so coldly about the crusade. They remained silent for a while, until Will trusted himself enough again to speak.

'You must miss them a lot.'

Robin smiled sadly. 'Yes. They say it gets easier with time, but it doesn't.'

Will didn't know what to say to that, since he had never had to experience the same thing. He merely continued sitting there, even taking an exceedingly annoying toddler from his companion's hands. It wasn't long before the mothers came back. They each carried such large bundles of wood that Robin couldn't possibly be annoyed with them for their extended absence. The women did look oddly at her and Will sitting so calmly side by side, but refrained from commenting in fear of Will's sharp tongue. They were content to take their children inside and start gossiping as soon as they were out of earshot.

Robin and Will parted without a word. Especially Robin was too drained from the emotional rollercoaster that the morning had been, to engage in anymore colourful insults. She somehow always ended up having deep, unsettling conversations with that particular man, which turned her views of him completely upside down every time. She shook her head one last time, and went to find something different from the offspring of others to busy herself with that afternoon.

* * *

The people in Sherwood Forest weren't the only ones whose activity pattern had been drastically altered by the heavy snowfall. George of Nottingham, the Sheriff, was also forced to keep his soldiers inside the city. But he wasn't complaining. Having decided to put his active search for the Forest community on hold, he busied himself instead with profusely flattering the barons. As he had been unable to pay their bribes ever since that blasted Robin Hood had started raiding his convoys, he was reduced to grovelling and simpering to keep their favour. The remainder of his time he devoted to revising and improving his plans and strategies, which were always sure to put him in a better mood. He was doing just that when a knock was heard on his door.

'Enter!' He called, disinterestedly.

The intruder turned out to be Guy, which was the case at least 80 of the time. George put down his elaborate quill and invited the other to come closer.

'What is it, my cousin? Any interesting news?' He smiled, in a good mood for once.

Guy shifted a bit nervously before answering. 'Well, you could certainly call it… interesting. Pleasant would be another thing entirely.'

George merely raised his eyebrow and waited for his younger cousin to continue.

'I've finally received word from my agent in France. He is the last of a chain of informants I have that stretches as far as the holy land. They communicate by means of – '

'Yes, yes, get on with it. I don't care a whit about that. Just tell me what he said.'

Guy decided to ignore the interruption. '– homing pigeons. His message to us was delayed because of the bad weather over the canal, which caused the animal to be blown off course.'

Here, Guy inserted a pause, ignoring how impatient the other was.

'The note says that though his army has been broken…the Lionheart is on his way home.'

George was struck dumb. Not in his wildest dreams – or should he say nightmares – had he expected this kind of news. Someone up there _really_ didn't like him.

Encouraged by this response, or lack thereof, Guy continued.

'It also says that the damage has been contained. All other messages sent to any of the barons have been intercepted, so no one on the islands knows about this but us. When this message was sent, Richard was still in the East, waiting for a ship to be ready to take him back to the continent.'

George finally gathered his wits and proceeded to properly explode.

'Oh yes, just what I needed! That bloody _fool_ coming back when I'm only halfway with my plan! Why couldn't those blasted Saracens do their job and finish that crazy bastard off! He practically _asked_ for that, for pity's sake!' He had by now shredded his expensive-looking quill completely and stood up to start pacing his study. Guy had silently retreated to stand closer to the door. George was presently tugging at his hair.

'What in the seven Hells have I done to deserve this! What the Devil am I supposed to do now! He'll have me hanged for sure…' Following this came a string of muttered curses, and George seemed to calm down, if only a little. He suddenly stopped pacing and faced Guy again, though his eyes were unseeing.

'No… I won't let that happen. Taking in account the season and the _Lionheart's_ luck….. Yes, it's still possible….If I just….'

At this point, Guy decided to leave his more than slightly deranged cousin to his devices, and made a hasty retreat to the kitchen. When he had received the bad news it had been close to lunchtime, but upon reading the message his appetite had left him entirely. As the terrifying confrontation was now over with, it now returned in full force. He pushed the Lionheart to the back of his mind, and forced himself to leave it all to George.

A small part of him, however, hoped that King Richard would be on time to prevent too much of a disaster. His situation did not seem so hopeless now. In this small part of his mind the cogs started working, considering the pros and cons of defecting and redeeming himself, and somehow making sure that George was executed before he had the chance of exposing Guy's shady past.

For now this part remained dormant, but the seed was planted, and would certainly not die before fully blossoming.

After Guy had left, George's mind continued to work full speed on this new problem. He decided to force a breakthrough in the stalemate he had gotten himself into with Robin Hood, however dangerous it may be. He reasoned that if he _didn't_ do it, the outcome would be highly unfavourable anyway. Making up his mind, he went back to his desk and absently felt for his quill. When he noticed the thing was only fit for the hearth, he grumbled a bit and searched for another one in his drawer. While he was sharpening its tip with vicious movements of his pocket knife, the last of his aggression was drained away. This allowed him to focus calmly and calculatingly on the task at hand.

He had decided to finally make use of the information Guy and his henchmen had been steadily gathering for him for a few months now. In addition, he scheduled a meeting with his…caretaker… from when he was a child. She had certain capabilities that could prove to be quite useful. He smirked at the thought of other people's superstitions. She wasn't a witch persé… Another thought struck him, and his smile turned truly malicious. He would use that same superstition against the Locksley wench, to his own benefit. Talk about irony. Completing his newest plan of action that, conveniently enough, could mostly be executed while it was still winter, George felt satisfied with how he had dealt with this unpleasant turn of events.

For now, he leaned back in his chair; tomorrow he would put his new plans into effect. He glanced at the clock. He wondered if it was too late to summon the little minx that was the new kitchen maid to his rooms. Or better yet, if she should bring a friend… His lip curled at the thought and making his decision, he rang for his personal servant.

* * *

N/A: I myself think the dynamics between Robin, Will and Wulf are pretty realistic. If you've got some suggestions about this or that aspect of it, don't hesitate to make them known. 

Sooo, whatcha think of this last bit of news the Sheriff got? This certainly speeds things up a bit, as he's forced to take some more desperate measures. Guy will also start to play a bigger part sometime soon, but probably not yet next chapter. What will he do; remain faithful or betray the betrayer? That's for me to know and for you to find out, muhaha…

P.S. It's very late at the moment and I don't have the energy to thoroughly spell-check this. So forgive me for any toe-curling errors.

Toodles!


	16. Taking action

N/A: I apologize for my atrocious updating behaviour. I have no plausible excuse whatsoever, other than the fact that I just couldn't _make_ myself write.

Since replies to readers aren't allowed anymore, I'll just say an enormous thank you to the people who have been patient.

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**Chapter fifteen: Taking action**

The catacombs below Nottingham Castle were everything they should be: dark, dank and scary. But this particular one was even more so, because of the person that lived in it. Small animals slithered and crawled around, unseen in the dark; wisps of chilling fog swirled over ominous-looking pools of water on the stone floor; a foul stench was permanently in the air because of the repulsive concoctions that were continuously brewed in a large cauldron.

But the rare visitor paid these things no heed, and advanced purposefully to where a hunched figure stood over the fuming cauldron.

'Ah, Mortianna, my dear. How are you today?' The visitor, being George of Nottingham, asked in a silken voice.

'Stop that useless drivel this instant, it doesn't suit you. What do you need?' The figure's voice was brittle and screechy, and when they turned around a very old hag was revealed. She had very long, thin white hair, through which her skull was visible. Her face was small and scrunched up, except for a beaklike nose. One of her eyes was milky white with blindness, and the rare teeth in her mouth were black. Being used to her appearance, the Sheriff didn't flinch.

Forgoing any more pretence, George got to the point. 'I am in need of some of your foresight. I would like to get some indications as to my next course of action.'

The witch didn't reply, and merely limped back into the shadows to fetch the things she would need for this type of assistance. She finally re-emerged carrying a large, battered gold plate, and a velvet pouch. She placed the plate on a small stone altar, and then plunged her now free hand in the numerous pockets in her robe.

'What is your question?' She asked, while still rummaging in her clothing.

George was silent for a while, considering how exactly to phrase his request.

'Am I…thwarted? Or is there still a way to turn things around before the Lionheart's return?'

The witch didn't answer. She finally extracted her hand from a hidden pocket, holding an abnormally large egg. Holding it over the plate, she plunged her long thumbnail in it, cracking the shell. She then tipped it over, and a deep crimson liquid poured out onto the gold. It looked to be thick, almost viscous blood.

George swallowed thickly; he had seen a lot in his time living with this woman, but this was just disgusting. He didn't even want to _think_ about what kind of animal that egg belonged to. But he couldn't tear his eyes away. He had to see what she would do next. It had always been this way; no matter how repulsive things were, he had to look, to examine, to marvel at the darkness and cruelty of it all.

Satisfied with the way the blood had spread over the plate, the hag spit into it and proceeded to drag her fingernail through it, making a toe-curling screeching noise. She examined the result for a few seconds, and then finally opened the velvet pouch. She turned it over above the plate, not caring if any of the rune stones – because that was what the contents were – bounced of and skidded to the floor. She then hunched over the plate and examined it in silence.

George peered curiously over her shoulder, but for the life of him couldn't figure out what the strange display of smeared blood and saliva and scattered stones meant. His attention snapped back to the old woman when she began to nod.

'You plan…deception?' She glanced sideways at him, seeking confirmation.

George gestured vaguely, and the hag returned to her reading.

'Hmm… You must use the foolishness of youth', she suddenly looked up at him and continued sharply, 'use the plan you have. Soon.'

'But will it be enough?' George sceptically raised his eyebrow.

The witch looked down again. 'It will be… for now. When the weather changes… seek a powerful force to help you.'

'With what! The wench has emptied my treasury! I cannot afford to raise an army.'

Undisturbed by his sudden anger, Mortianna eyed him shrewdly.

'From the north', she added to her previous statement.

George calmed down some, and his mind made the necessary connections. 'You mean Celts', he answered distastefully, 'they drink the blood of their dead.'

'It is your only chance. You must act before the painted man reaches our shores.' She shuddered for the first time. 'If the painted man arrives before you succeed, he will cause our death. Both yours and mine.'

The Sheriff didn't like the sound of that. It was another threat to take into account. He assumed this mysterious 'painted man' would arrive with Richard, whose arrival was bad news anyway. At least he now had an inkling of what he was supposed to do after the winter. If only these readings weren't so bloody vague; it would be a hell of a lot easier.

'How long before _King_ Richard arrives, and this painted man?'

The hag bent over the rune stones once more. 'I cannot tell, but not before the snow has melted.'

George resisted the urge to snort. _Well that was helpful. What did I say about vague again?_ He sighed, resigning to the uncertainty. It was another incentive to act fast.

'I thank you, Mortianna. Your assistance has granted me a new perspective. You shall be rewarded accordingly.'

Without waiting for a reply, George made his way back to the exit. He felt that a distinct chill had settled in his bones, and he was determined to find some wench to get rid of it with.

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He had seen the manor appearing in the distance often enough now for it to be familiar to him. Guy squinted in the harsh sunlight being reflected by the snow covering the land. Ever since George had issued his order to find out everything there was to know about Locksley, either Guy or one of his henchmen had regularly made the trip to the dreary-looking Locksley manor. He could have just told his men to take care of it, but he wasn't his cousin's spy-master for nothing; there was a form of subtlety none of his less educated staff had managed to grasp as of yet. He had also taken the liberty of going a little farther than the Sheriff's order, anticipating what would be requested later on. After getting to know everything about – among others – Duncan, he had decided to already try and influence the superstitious and, more importantly, greedy stable boy. He had fed him unsettling rumours about the supposed intentions of his former mistress, along with a steady supply of pocket money from the Sheriff, and had made his loyalty shift in their favour. When George finally gave him the much expected assignment, Guy couldn't help but feel smug. He _certainly_ wasn't spymaster for nothing!

Having reached the outer wall of the manor, Guy slowed his horse and dismounted. It wouldn't do to alert the servant girl, Sarah, of his presence. He had seen from the beginning that her character was unfit for their scheme; she was much too honest and fiercely loyal to her mistress. She was simply too pure to be able to lie and deceive.

After tying his horse to a nearby tree, Guy sat down on a boulder conveniently located behind some concealing brush. This was their usual meeting place, and he waited patiently for Duncan.

It didn't take long for Duncan to arrive, since he was quite eager to receive another gold-filled purse. The boy looked just as thin and gangly as he always had, with a pointed, mousy face and dirty-blonde hair. He looked around rather skittishly, and the carefully approached the brush. He seemed relieved that Guy was already there. Without waiting for Guy to speak, he launched into an explanation himself.

'Look, I can't talk long today; Sarah's been houndin' me since this mornin'. Did ye bring me money?'

Guy realised with distaste that he had allowed the boy to forget his place. As his stature demanded of him, he grabbed Duncan's shirt in a forceful grip, and yanked him down to meet his gaze directly.

'I'm going to pretend you didn't just say that, because I would be forced to run you through. As for the money, I'm still willing to give it to you, on one condition.'

With satisfaction, Guy could see the boy's eyes widen in greed. He had him for sure; hook, line and sinker.

'Anythin', what do ye want me te do?' He was oblivious to Guy's evil smirk.

Guy beckoned him closer. He might not agree with his cousin's ambitions, but he just _loved_ to scheme and manipulate. He laid an arm around Duncan's shoulder, and said:

'Here's what I want you to do…'

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The two sentries were both shivering. They had been sent out on look-out duty for the day, to check the borders of the Forest. It was something that had to be done for their own safety, but that didn't mean they had to like it.

'How long until we can go back, Notch? I'm freezin' me nuts off here.'

Notch only glowered at his companion. 'Ye've been askin' that same question since before we were even halfway from the village. I don't like it anymore than you do.'

Regardless, he looked up to the sky, trying to asses the time from what little he saw of it.

'We've got to stay 'ere at least until dusk sets in. By the time we'll be back home it'll be about the right time. Look on the bright side, at least we'll 've had our turn already, Bull.'

Bull nodded grumpily, and huddled even deeper into his cloak. What was even worse than simple sentry-duty was if nothing at all happened while you were doing it.

Both quietly musing to themselves after that, they nearly missed the telltale snapping of branches and crunching of feet in the snow of a visitor entering their territory. Bull was the first to become aware of it, and gave his friend a hard nudge in the side. Silencing any protest from Notch, he merely indicated his chin in the direction of the sounds. Comprehension dawned on Notch's wide face, and he stood up, motioning for Bull to join him. Silently, they both strung their bows, and approached the noise.

The intruder was too preoccupied with the branches continuously slapping him in the face to notice the two sentries finally appearing right in front of him. It wasn't until he roughly collided with Bull, that he recoiled in surprise. Notch didn't wait for the smaller person to make a sound, before his booming voice filled the area.

'Who're you, and what are ye doin' in our Forest?'

The boy – for it was a boy – swallowed the big lump in his throat and cleared it.

'My name is Duncan. I'm lookin' for Robin of Locksley.'

The two men conversed in hushed voices, every minute or so glancing over to where Duncan stood. On the outside the boy just looked cold, but that was not the only thing that was causing the tension in his body. The entire success of his mission depended on whether or not they would take him to the village. This was his only chance, for if he tried it again when there were other men stationed here, the word would've assuredly already been spread. He couldn't bear to imagine what would happen if he'd fail. He would have o face Guy of Gisbourne again, and the man would not be pleased. Duncan gulped again. Damn the temptation that was gold! He would be lucky if he walked away with his life…

The two seemed to have reached an understanding, and came back over to the boy. He looked up from his private 'angsting', and watched them expectantly.

'Look, this is what we're goin' te do: we'd like te believe ye, so we'll take ye te Robin. But we're goin' te have te blindfold ye; it's the rules', Notch explained.

'It's standarded procedure', Bull supplied, and at a glare from Notch, trailed off: 'or summit like tha'.'

Duncan looked a little put out at that: now he still wouldn't be able to exactly localize the village. _Well,_ he surmised, _I'm just goin' te have te win her trust, and she'll let me go around without that blasted blindfold._ As it was however, he realised it was the only way to get in. So he shrugged his consent to Notch, and allowed the man to put a scarf over his eyes.

The peculiar group arrived back at the village much later than expected, due to the delay caused by the fact that one of them couldn't see at all. By the time they stepped into the main clearing, many of their fellow citizens had already gone to bed. Supper was long over. They were met promptly by Robin and John, who had undoubtedly been informed by a look-out.

'Finally!' Robin exclaimed, 'I was becoming rather worried.' She then looked at the third companion.

'Who did you bring? Wait a minute… is that … Duncan?'

In a sudden flurry of movement, Robin tore the blindfold from the boy's face, and instantly recognized it; even though it had been a while.

'It is you! What are you doing here? Is everything alright with Sarah? And-'

'Calm down, Robin. No matter how fast ye talk, the lad can still only answer one question at a time.' John admonished gently, putting a restraining hand on Robin's shoulder.

The girl blushed, and realised she was not displaying very mature leader-like behaviour. She calmed her breathing, and said:

'Sorry about that. You all must be positively freezing! Come to the fire, and I'll ask Wat if there are any leftovers from supper. I'm sure we can fix something for you three.' She then turned and swiftly strode over to the cook's tent, leaving John to deal with the new arrivals.

Quite soon after, she had Wat bustling about once more, putting together a hearty meal for the three men. While she was waiting to take it back to the small assembly at the fireplace, a figure approached her.

'So who's the skinny little imp?' A sarcastic voice asked from behind Robin.

Without turning around, she knew exactly who it was.

'Hello to you too, Will. Aren't you supposed to be sleeping?' ignoring his response to the obvious annoyance in her voice, she continued, 'As for your question; he's the stable boy at Locksley Manor.'

When she didn't elaborate, Will raised an eyebrow.

'I see. For months he's never made the effort to come and see you. So why is he here now?' He sounded sceptical.

This time Robin did turn around, and looked straight up into his dark eyes. 'That's what I'm going to find out right now.' And with that, she pushed by him while balancing various large plates of food. Will turned around to look after her, annoyed that he had once more failed to get the last word. His gut feeling told him not to trust the new boy, and he decided to watch him very closely.

'This is all that's left, but it should be enough.' True to Robin's statement, the two men and the boy dug into the food immediately. Knowing men, she waited until every last scrap had disappeared before speaking.

'So, now you're first needs have been taken care of; why have you come to see me?' She was curious, desperate for any news of her old home and its inhabitants.

Duncan's head snapped up, unprepared for the sudden question. He remained quiet for a while, struggling to recall the story he and Guy had fabricated.

'Er, Sarah was worried about ye, Milady. And we were runnin' out of money. So I thought: maybe I could bring messages between you and Sarah, and keep you up to date about the goings-on at the Manor?' He tried to look as sincere as possible, hoping with all his heart she would buy it. He really didn't want to be on this woman's bad side, after what Guy had told him.

Robin was nodding slowly. She could understand Sarah being worried; she hadn't spoken to the older woman since that one time in the Nottingham church. The money issue was also plausible, as she'd last seen the chest of money in her father's chambers with barely enough in it to cover the bottom. As for the offer of being a messenger… she would have to consider that very carefully with John and Wulf. It could prove to be either a valuable asset, or a dangerous liability. Having sorted out her thoughts, she spoke.

'First of all, don't call me Milady. Call me Robin, everyone is equal here. I'll think about what we can do about the money, because I don't really fancy you and Sarah starving. But I'll have to talk with my friends about your being a messenger', she shared a look with John, who was also still present, and added, 'until we've reached a decision you can stay here. But you're going to have to help out. We have a few horses, so you could help out James. I'll introduce you to him in the morning.'

Duncan nodded, masking his disappointed over the fact that he would still have to work while staying here.

'Right', Robin said, standing up and brushing off her trousers, 'I think it's time for bed for all of us. Duncan, you can stay in the spare hut we have for guests, over there.' She pointed to a small hut, located near the communal roofed area. As the boy walked past her to the hut and the others were moving away to their own houses, she suddenly grabbed the boy in a fierce hug. Duncan tensed up, startled.

'It's so good to see someone from home again!' Robin whispered urgently in his ear. Just as fast as she had taken hold of him, she let go. Without another word, she went to her tree house. Duncan watched her for a moment, stunned at her behaviour, which was so unlike anything Guy had warned him about. But maybe this was just her mask. He'd wait with considering her harmless until he'd seen her in a rage.

Still standing where she'd left him, Duncan was approached by a tall man. He looked at the other warily, waiting to be spoken to. It wasn't until the taller man was looming over him that he was addressed.

'Listen, _boy_, I don't know what you're playing at, but something's not quite right about you. You better not mean any harm to Robin or anyone else, or I'll harm _you_, got that? I'll be watching you.'

Then Will, for that was who it was, moved away, leaving a very shaken-up Duncan behind. He was quite satisfied with the effect he had on the little sod. While walking back to his house, he frowned. Robin was much too trusting; just look at the way she had failed to keep her distance from the boy after only an hour in his presence. He shook his head now, he'd have to look out for her, make sure the blasted boy didn't get her into trouble.

Entering his house and falling down onto his bed, he forcefully drove any further thoughts of the situation from his mind. For now, he preferred to ignore the exact reason why he felt he had to watch _Locksley's_ back. He wasn't sure anyhow.

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N/A: So chapter fifteen is finally here! Doesn't it make an appropriate Christmas present? I hope it was enough to satisfy your curiosity, though really not much action takes place. But a chapter like this was once again needed.

I think we'll have a time-jump forward to spring soon, so we can get started on the action! Well, I'm off for the holidays, I'm going snowboarding!

Happy 2006 everyone!


	17. Spring fever

**N/A:** Sorry, again, for the long wait. I had no idea how to start with this chapter, with who's point of view and all. I hope it's long enough to appease you!  
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**Chapter sixteen: Spring fever**

As the days lengthened and the snow melted away, activity once again increased in the Forest community. Many small defects and chores had gone unnoticed for more than three long months, and were now revealed by the thaw. It was now March, and everything and everyone was already getting in the mood for spring. The wood animals were coming out of their burrows again, hibernation being over. The hunters were tempted to shoot some fresh game, but refrained when they saw how little meat there was on the creatures. It was clear that the winter had been harsh; on animals and people alike. Even with the tight rationing, the last days of cold had still almost been too much for the supplies. It had been difficult for the villagers to ignore the hunger, and now the weather was clearing up they seized every distraction that presented itself.

One of the few that weren't so happy about the long list of chores was Duncan. Ever since he had arrived in the camp he had been made to perform his stable boy duties, which he had already loathed while still at the manor. At least there it had been the imposing figure of Lord Locksley who had ordered him around. Here, it was either a _girl_, or one of those two lowly peasants, the Littles. Though Duncan was little more than illiterate, he considered himself of a much higher rank simply because he was in the service of a noble family.

His complete reluctance to work was anything but concealed. Everyone could see the permanent scowl on his face and the slowness of his movements, as well as hear the heavy sighs he heaved. At first the villagers decided to ignore it, to keep up the good cheer. But after a few days it started to annoy them severely. No one else was complaining as hard as he was, and he wasn't even given the hardest of jobs.

Robin had noticed as well, and had at first dismissed it as childish laziness. But when Duncan's procrastination became blaringly obvious, she knew she had to step in. It wasn't fair to the others if he got away with doing next to nothing to earn his keep, when they had been generous enough to allow him to stay in their midst when there wasn't even an immediate threat to his life; which had been the ground rule before his arrival.

When the first week of March had passed, Robin decided it was time to put an end to it. His behaviour had put enough of a stain on their connection. That, and Will was about to strangle the boy. She approached Duncan when he was brushing down one of the horses, once again at an achingly slow pace.

'Hey', she said, startling the boy out of his daydream.

'Oh! Hey, Robin', he answered, flustered.

Robin proceeded to pet the horse, which was Wulf's, thinking on how to best say this. After a few minutes, during which Duncan became increasingly uneasy, she spoke.

'Why are you here, Duncan?' She asked, looking straight at him.

Surprised, the boy turned to look at her. 'I told you, Sarah was worried, and we were almost out of money. I also figured you needed a messenger.'

Robin sighed. 'Yes, you told me that. But you have to understand it's not that simple. You can't just waltz in and out of the Forest, so being a messenger is folly. But since you seemed eager to be here, and I liked to have someone from home around, I thought you could stay with us. It took a lot to convince the others, but I promised them you would be useful.'

She now looked him sternly in the eye. 'I vouched for you, Duncan. And frankly, right now you're embarrassing me.'

Duncan's eyes widened, anger and indignation rising in his stomach, but he managed to keep a straight face.

Robin continued, 'You mope around all day, work as little as possible while you don't even have difficult chores and sometimes even hide for a few hours to avoid working! There are children half your age here who work twice as hard!'

Robin realised she had raised her voice, and kept silent for a while to rein in her temper. 'What I'm trying to tell you is that if you keep this up, I won't have a use for you anymore. I'll be forced to send you back, and admit my mistake to the others.' She smiled wryly at him. 'I must admit you've disappointed me a bit, Duncan.'

The boy hung his head and said nothing. To Robin it looked as if he was repentant, but on the inside he was seething. How dare she chastise him! A mere wench! She had no authority over him! He'd always thought she was strange, and forgetting her place in this world. And her father had done nothing about it. It was alarming how boyish she acted, when she was _clearly_ a woman. She should be sewing and cooking instead of gallivanting around with outlaws. Not to mention those disturbing accusations of witchcraft. He would never admit it to himself, but he'd always resented her being braver than he was, doing things he could only wish for, and being allowed anything she wanted by her doting father. And now he hated her even more, for still getting all the attention and admiration of the people for doing these scandalous things.

In his internal rage, he didn't hear Robin walking away, and didn't see the dejected droop in her shoulders. She really was disappointed; she had hoped that this connection to her home would be nice to have around; someone to talk to about the home she still sorely missed sometimes. But it had not been meant to be. Duncan had avoided her often, and when they did talk, he didn't seem to want to reminisce. All in all, it did seem best to just send him home, and admit defeat to the others, who then might come to doubt her judgment.

'I thought I told you not to harm her.' An ominous voice spoke from behind Duncan. He jumped, dropped the brush and whirled around. He managed to contain a gasp, and answered as levelly as he could: 'I didn't touch her.'

Will stepped into the light. 'There are other ways of hurting someone. With your behaviour you have hurt her more than you slapping her ever could've.'

'What's that supposed to mean?'

'It means, you stupid little boy, that you couldn't inflict bodily harm if your life depended on it, and that she foolishly cared about you enough to be disappointed by you.'

Duncan almost missed the insult because of its phrasing, and failed to grasp the concept of the second part as well.

Will had expected at least _something_ of a reply and was anticipating it gleefully, but when all he got was a 'What?' he seemed to deflate a bit. He didn't know what to say to someone who understood so little that his ingeniously worded insults were simply not processed.

He finally settled for: 'Congratulations, you have proven to be completely useless in _every_ aspect.' He shook his head and glared at the boy.

I'll leave you alone for now, but if you cause any more grief and don't clean up your act, I'll be delighted to personally toss your sorry behind back into the stable you crawled out of. Got that?'

He waited for Duncan to nod nervously, and then briskly walked away in search of some real verbal amusement. It seemed even he was feeling the effects of spring approaching.

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George had heeded Mortianna's advice, and as soon as the snow had melted away for him as well, he sent Guy up north. The boy Guy had been so busy with during the winter was now apparently firmly planted in Locksley's camp, so his cousin had his hands free. And George did so love to torture him a bit. He could still see the apprehensive swallow when Guy was informed of his new mission. He was afraid of the Celts, and with good reason. They were fearless and cruel warriors, even the women. Many myths and stories about them circulated in England, including the fact that they apparently drank the blood of their deceased. On top of that, they were Pagans. Godless people with little to no morals and horrific rituals, as the Bishop had more than once told his parish. But Guy knew he had no choice, and that made him resent his cousin even more. So, resigned to his fate, he steeled his already feeble resolve, and decided to trust in his abilities of persuasion.

Despite the heavy thaw, the highway to the north proved to be a challenge. The originally Roman pavement had not been cleared since their rule, and was currently covered with mud at least an inch thick. All things considered, it took Guy the better part of a week to get within the borders Celtic territory. The further he progressed, the colder and more uninviting the landscape became. And just as importantly, the more he felt watched. When Guy had asked how to actually contact the Celts, all he had gotten as a reply was: 'don't worry, they'll find you.' An ominous statement if ever there was one. Sighing, he looked around once again due to the continuous itching sensation at the back of his neck. When he once again found no telltale sign of the savages' presence, he grew annoyed. The feeling of being toyed with was steadily growing, and he was fed up with it. If they meant to kill him, why not just get it over with and spare him the wait? Just as he was contemplating just throwing down his things and setting up camp right there, Guy's world exploded in chaos.

From all around him forms clad in thick furs appeared out of nowhere, and advanced at him at a terrible speed. They uttered blood-curdling cries and wielded outlandish weapons. Guy scrambled to get his sword out to defend himself, but already knew that it was futile. His assailants numbered at least ten, and by the looks of them knew quite well what they were doing. Taken by a desperate feeling of not wanting to die just yet, Guy gripped his sword tighter, and waited for the first direct attack. He didn't have to wait long.

The threat of death had given him wings, and he managed to take out two or three of the savages before a surprise-attack from his left made him drop his sword. The Celt responsible wasted no time in kicking it out of reach, and with another kick to the back of Guy's leg, brought the Englishman to his knees. The fight had lasted less than two minutes, but all the participants were heaving and sweating. Guy figured detachedly that it was because of all the excitement. The Celt who had defeated him towered over him as he circled around his captive, saying incomprehensible things in that ugly language of his. But Guy didn't need a translation; he figured it wasn't good news anyway.

The impressive warrior had ceased his circling and now stood before Guy. It was obvious that he intended to kill the Englishman as he swung his enormous blade back. As he realised his fate, time seemed to slow down for Guy, and he suddenly felt at peace. _It's over. It's finally over. No more worries, only blessed ignorance._ He found death didn't scare him any longer, and that he now only longed to embrace the sweet nothingness it would bring. He closed his eyes, and awaited the blow.

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'I think we should have a celebration.'

Robin jumped as Wulf dropped his tall form next to her. 'You have _got _to stop sneaking up on me. Look at what you made me do.' She showed him the small trickle of blood on her thumb; she'd been preparing twigs for future arrow-making.

Wulf glanced at it, and shrugged. 'Eh well, not my fault yer clumsy wi' knives.' He looked away, secretly smiling. _Three, two, one…_

'I am not clumsy with knives! I'll have you know that I'm a decent woodcarver, and have been doing all sorts of things with this particular knife since I was six!' Wulf merely laughed when he turned his eyes on her indignant face.

'Don't you laugh at me!' Robin exclaimed, ready to launch into an all-out tirade, if not for Wulf's interruption.

'Dear me, ye sure are easy to wind up, Robin. Now I can see a bit why Will can't resist it.'

'Since when do you agree with Will on anything?' Robin grumbled, taking another vicious swipe at the twig.

Wulf took pity on her, and turned to face her completely. 'Well, let's have a look at yer thumb then. Give it here, woman!' He added when she stubbornly refused.

While Robin reluctantly let Wulf take care of the wound – it was only a small nick in the skin anyway – she looked around the square. They were sitting on one of the benches in the roofed community area, near the main fire pit, and she could oversee most of the village. When her gaze travelled over Will's usual seat, she had to do a double take. As more often than not these days, Will was there working on something or other that needed mending. He had surprisingly skilful hands and a remarkable patience for such things, considering his temper. But that was not what made Robin's eyes linger on him. It was the fact that he was actually looking straight at her and Wulf or at what Wulf was doing with her hand to be precise. Robin was surprised at the intensity of his gaze, at the undecipherable emotion in it.

It was as if he had felt her looking at him, because he now shifted to look her straight in the eye. Robin felt embarrassed at having been caught, but couldn't look away even if she wanted to. They were connected as Robin could see through Will's eyes into his soul for the first time, though not comprehending what it was she saw. After a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, Will seemed to once more become aware of himself. He blinked, and returned his complete attention to his mending. Robin watched him a little while longer, and was only startled back to the present when Wulf spoke.

'There, all done.' Robin looked down to inspect her thumb, making sure Wulf wouldn't notice anything.

'But to get back to the initial point; I think we should have a celebration.'

Robin looked up at him, having banished all thought of Will for later contemplation. 'Oh? And why is that?'

'Well', he made himself comfortable as he always did when he was going to explain something, 'fer one, everyone's in a right good mood 'cause o' the spring. Secondly, we've caught up wi' all the chores, so now we're all just doin' our regular tasks. Our food supplies are back to an acceptable level again, 'cause the animals have gotten more active the past week.

'So', he concluded, 'we have the mood, the time and the food. Why not take our successful survival o' this horrible winter as the occasion?' He directed a huge grin at her, he obviously felt like having a party too.

Robin stayed silent for a bit, thinking the suggestion over. Seeing no flaw in the plan, she nodded.

'You're right. The people deserve to have a bit of fun.' Then another thought struck her. 'Do you know if anyone knows how to play an instrument here?' She asked, a smile now gracing her lips.

'Let me think….. Aye, I think I can round up a few.' Wulf replied, having caught on right away. 'So when do ye want ter do this?'

Robin went over everything again in her mind. 'I'm thinking… three days from now?' She turned to Wulf for confirmation.

He grinned and nodded. 'Consider it done. You mobilize Wat and the women fer food preparations, I'll tell the lads ter hunt some larger game. And I'll tell some o' our hidden musicians ter come out.' He waved his salutations at Robin and left grinning all the while; a new spring in his step with the thought of the upcoming feast.

Duncan smiled to himself, feeling immensely pleased with Wulf, whom he had cursed a thousand fold only a short while ago. The reason he liked the blundering oaf so much right now, was his idea of a celebration. Duncan reasoned it would undoubtedly be a rather wild celebration, as it was the first in a very long time – or so he had gathered from the women's excited tittering. It would be the ideal opportunity to leave the Forest and relay his findings to the Lord of Gisbourne.

The obstruction that had initially kept him from doing so had been the simple fact that he had not known the way to the Forest's border. He had after all been brought to the village blindfolded. That had been rather a large problem for him, as his main objective had been to provide his new lord with directions to 'the Locksley wench's lair', as Guy had put it. But now this little predicament was solved: during the time that Robin had believed him to be hiding from work he had in fact waited for a switch of men for sentry duty at the outskirts of Sherwood Forest. He had simply slipped out in the hustle and bustle of the village, and followed the men at a careful distance, taking great pains to discreetly mark his progress. After the two – admittedly, not so bright – men had settled in their designated spot in the watch tree, he had calmly backtracked; with no one the wiser.

After that, he had only needed to wait for the perfect time to escape. He had come to the conclusion that Robin of Locksley was every bit the strange, scary and annoying woman that the Lord of Gisbourne had told him she was, and he felt no need whatsoever to keep the whereabouts of his erstwhile mistress a secret. Instead, he greatly looked forward to the reward he would receive once he got to Nottingham.

He had inconspicuously taken some supplies from under the noses of the frenziedly cooking women, and was now all set to leave. He was now only waiting for the villagers to become thoroughly enraptured by the festivities, which were by now only a day away.

Robin looked around approvingly. The preparations for the feast were coming along nicely, and at this rate everything would be ready well before nightfall. Long tables were placed under the roofed area, waiting for the numerous dishes to be set upon them. In the cooking area said dishes were being kept warm until the time came for them to be served, allowing the women to clean themselves up before the feast. The group of five musicians that Wulf had managed to round up had already lain down their instruments on the makeshift stage they were to occupy later, and all pieces were already tuned as much as they could in these circumstances.

After a last glance around, Robin turned to go to her house to clean up as well, only to be ambushed by some of the younger women.

'Hi Maggie, all ready for tonight?'

'Aye, I am. But yer not!' Maggie, a stout girl with a broad smile and long blond hair, exclaimed at the sight of her leader.

'No I'm not, but I was just going to clean up a bit.' Robin tried not to fidget under such scrutiny.

'Only a bit? No, if I know you, Robin – and I do – then yer just gunna splash some water in yer face and be done with it!'

'And what's wrong with that!' She was feeling a bit threatened now.

Maggie looked at her pityingly, 'Rather a lot, I'd say. And it's not gunna happen either! Yer comin' wi' me, leader or no, and we'll make a woman out o' ye yet', She then turned to her friends, 'come on, ladies! What say you to "cleanin' up" Robin?'

All protest Robin might've uttered was drowned in a loud cry of 'AYE!' by Maggie's friends, and before she knew it she was being hauled of to Maggie's house.

Robin realised pretty quickly that all this had been planned long in advance; from what dress she was being forced into, to when exactly she should be presented to the crowd. Though she was being forced to play dress-up for several hours, time went fast because of the amount of different female faces she saw that were all chattering loudly with each other. But now, when the dishes had already been laid out and the musicians had just started to play but dancing had not yet begun, Robin's captors deemed her ready to join the crowd.

She was wearing what obviously was the best dress of the girl who was closest to Robin in size. It was a dark, saffron yellow with a few embroidered brown flowers at the hem and moderately cut, and managed somehow to look good with Robin's dark red hair that now reached mid-back again. Maggie had wound the upper half in a complex braid and had left the lower half loose, so that the braid rested on a blanket of almost black hair and creating a simple yet elegant effect. Her eyelids were darkened somewhat with coal but she had adamantly refused any more face paint, arguing that she would rub it off anyway because she wasn't used to it.

Now that all the girls were standing still and looking at her approvingly, Robin suddenly felt very self-conscious and nervous.

'Do I look alright?' She asked in an uncharacteristic small voice.

'Are ye kiddin' me?' Maggie replied equally soft, 'ye look absolutely stunnin'. Yer gunna turn every male head that's present!'

Everyone paused for a second, until Robin spoke again. 'Thank you, all of you. I don't kno-'

'Don't thank us yet, dearie!' Maggie said, louder now, 'ye'll know how much te thank us tomorrow, when ye've finally bagged yerself a man!'

In the loud laughter that followed, Robin was spun around and pushed outside. As the suddenly magnified sound assaulted her ears, Robin froze in sudden panic. Did she really look nice? What was everyone going to say at the surprising sight of her wearing a dress? Before she had time to take off in the direction of her own house to hide, a tall person came up in front of her.

'Well, they told me ye were bein' cleaned up by the young lassies, but I think they underestimated Maggie and her cohorts.'

The gentle joke shook her out of her panic, and she looked up to find no other than Wulf. She uttered a sigh of relief.

'Wulf, thank God it's you. Quick shield me from view while I go to my house and change!' Robin asked her friend urgently.

'Change? Why? Ye look nice, Robin. Don't worry everyone looks special tonight.' He indicated himself, and surely he was wearing a beautiful leather tunic with some curling designs burned into it, and had somewhat successfully tamed his wild hair after scrubbing up.

Suddenly Robin's insecurity swung the other way. 'Only nice! What about stunning, or beautiful, ever heard of those!'

Now Wulf knew Robin had worked herself up into frenzy, since she normally wasn't vain at all. He realised she must be feeling extremely anxious for some reason, though he couldn't fathom what. She did look beautiful, as she'd said herself, so what was the problem? He'd only used the euphemism because he knew she felt uncomfortable with compliments, but it seemed that had been the wrong road to take tonight. He could see some of the girls peeping out of the house to listen to their conversation, so he bent closer to Robin and lowered his voice while he gently took her by the arms to calm her.

'Calm down, Robin. Yer not talkin' sense. Yer absolutely fine and to be frank I think ye'll be the star of the evenin' lookin' like this. Ye look every bit as nice as Maggie must've told ye, so there's no way I'm lettin' ye sneak off home to put on some bland pair of breeches. Now come wi' me, and have fun.'

At this point he looked at her searchingly. After he could see she had regained her composure somewhat, he added:

'What do ye say?'

Looking into his kind face Robin could detect no lie, and after a moment she dared a smile. The taller boy smiled back while putting an arm around her shoulder to guide her towards the festivities. Feeling she was still rather tense, he murmured: 'Loosen up, it'll be fine. I promise.'

At this point Robin finally relented and abandoned all hope of her comfortable and safe breeches, and decided to meet all reactions head on. She might've lost her calm a little while ago, but she could deal with this. She wasn't the leader for nothing, although she couldn't help but think that her visit to Nottingham in the autumn had been easier to pull off than this would prove to be.

As the two approached the gathering Wulf's arm fell away to the point where it was just a reassurance behind her back. The bushy haired boy didn't want to aggravate the unfounded gossip about their friendship that was already circulating, but at the same time he refused to throw his young friend to the lions.

What greeted them was a silence much the same as the one that had sounded when Robin had emerged out of the water all those months ago. Even the music stopped as everyone, especially the men, gawked at her. The girl once again fought the urge to fidget, and was relieved when a very large silhouette made his way through the crowd towards them.

'My word, Robin! No one can doubt that yer a lassie now! Ye look mighty fine, girl. Come have a dance wi' me! Fanny'll forgive me, won't ye Fanny?' John Little, also clad in his finest clothes, sent a loving wink to his wife and took Robin's hand. He then turned to the musicians. 'What's this? I'll have no silence on this feast, so pick up yer things and play a tune! A lively one', he added to Robin with a large grin.

Feeling more at ease already, she grinned back as John wasted no time to pull her into a jig. She briefly waved back at Wulf in apology, but he waved her away with a grin identical to his father's.

A little further away Will was watching the proceedings, absolutely dumbstruck. He had been curiously eyeing the girl Wulf was talking to, and from what he could see at such a distance she was very pretty in her yellow dress. He'd already started thinking of ways to get her to dance with him when she and Wulf approached the group. It was to his horror that the closer she came, the more he realised who she was. By the time John had swept her into a dance, he was ready to drink himself into a stupor. How could he not have seen it was her! He, who had habitually watched the wench every day since her arrival in their midst. How could he have missed that shock of red hair, the way she held her head so irritatingly high causing her hair to gently sway across her back, the way her shoulders tensed slightly in determination causing the cutest of frowns to appear in her forehead…? Oh dear God. He could really use something stronger than ale about now.

The night progressed in rambunctious pleasure for Robin, alternately dancing with whoever of her friends wanted to have a go and eating some of the delicious cooking that Wat and his numerous assistants had managed to put together. She had by now forgotten all about her appearance, not in the least because she had had three goblets of ale that she wasn't at all used to. Because of all this she hadn't noticed the absence of a certain stable boy.

She had just sat down completely out of breath and with her head spinning, when a hand was thrust into her line of sight. She looked up, to find the least likely person standing there.

'Don't ask why, 'cause I don't know either, but I've the inexplicable urge to dance with you.'

Robin was quite certain that Will was well on his way to becoming completely plastered and opened her mouth to ask anyway, but was interrupted.

'Don't say anything. I'm guessing you're drunk and I'm sure as hell I am, so let's just abandon who we are right now and have fun. We can forget all about this in the morning and go back to being our fighting selves.'

Through her slightly hazy state Robin could've sworn Will sounded bitter, which was all the more puzzling. Not really able to deal with the issue right now, she made the split decision to take his hand. Will seemed momentarily startled that she'd accepted, but shook it off and pulled her up before she could change her mind. He refused to think about _why_ in the world he was doing this. He only knew that he had to dance with her as the others had even if it was only this once. He'd face the consequences of this strange urge when he was sober.

Will had misjudged the strength with which to pull the girl up, and she ended up standing flush against him. Her eyes went wide at their proximity, and in his intoxicated state Will couldn't help but get lost in their emerald depths. After what seemed like ages Robin spoke.

'Ehm… shouldn't we…dance…or something? Will?'

The utterance of his name jogged the young man into motion. He nodded once and started to pull Robin to the dance floor as steadily as he could, which was surprisingly well. This gave Robin the time to examine her new partner's attire. Will was wearing a beautiful cream coloured shirt with a very well-cut and dear-looking sleeveless leather jacket over it. He was also sporting worn leather breeches and boots that lent him an air of wildness. Her gaze roving upwards again, she lingered shortly on his hand. The fingers holding hers were lightly calloused from use of weaponry, but were still long and nimble. She decided he had very elegant hands for a peasant. Going up once more, she looked at his hair. Even in the dim light of the fire she could see it was a light brown that would no doubt be highlighted further when the sun finally regained its strength. It was peculiarly layered and hung down to his collar in the back, while she recalled that it only reached his jaw in the front.

At that point Will had apparently reached his destination and interrupted Robin's observations by spinning her around to face him. This prompted her to look into Will's face again, searching for any indication as to what she was supposed to do. Astounded by his own daring, Will took her right hand in his left and put his own right hand on her waist. From this position he remarked that Robin actually only came up to his nose, and that in reality she wasn't as impressive as she seemed to be when he argued with her.

Robin, on her part, had automatically put her left hand up to Will's shoulder when he had instigated the position, and now made use of the momentum to continue her analysis of her partner with his face. She had never paid that much attention to its particulars during their fights, and only now realised that without its customary scowl it really looked quite handsome. His features were sharp and boldly cut, which matched his defiant nature. His nose was a bit too long and his mouth a bit too wide too be striking, but they somehow suited the rest of his naturally tanned face. His eyes were definitely his best feature, she unconsciously decided. They were a very dark brown and quite expressive, and were encircled by surprisingly long lashes for a man. A pair of thick, stern eyebrows completed the pleasing but intimidating picture.

Before Robin could be caught up in the whirlwind of drunken emotion in those eyes, Will swept her into motion in time with the tune the band had just started. As they danced, the exertion and the alcohol they had ingested made them surpass their awkwardness and they both noted that the other was quite a gifted dancer. As such, neither sought a different partner when the song was finished. They shared many more dances, and seemed to have forgotten why this wasn't such a good idea. Not once did they catch other people's speculative and incredulous glances, or the murmurs that were rising in various places in the crowd.

Wulf had noticed them when they had just stepped onto the dance floor and had wanted to separate them in protection of his friend, but when he could see that Robin wasn't struggling it occurred to him that this might be the way to bury the hatchet between his friend and Will. That didn't mean he wasn't going to keep an eye on them though.

When at last both Will and Robin were out of breath, they made their way to a small bench that sat a bit to the side of all the excitement – again, together. They hadn't said a word to each other since they'd begun dancing, and still didn't until both had caught most of their breath. Will's head had cleared somewhat by now, as opposed to Robin's who didn't have the other's tolerance for alcohol. The young man was starting to realise the implications of what they'd done, and he was desperate to know what his pensive companion was thinking. Not knowing how to broach the issue, he simply started by getting the girl's attention.

'Locksley-'

Robin grimaced. 'Don't call me that.'

Will looked at her strangely. 'Why not?'

She remained silent for a time and started to play with the fabric of her dress. 'I don't want to be reminded of home. And it makes me feel like…'

When she didn't continue, he prompted, 'like what?'

Robin sighed, and raised her head to look him square in the eye. 'Like you think I'm the lowest creature you've ever laid eyes on.'

The young man was taken aback by this frank admission, and at first didn't know what to say. He then decided to be equally frank; the damage was done anyway, as would become apparent in the morning.

'I try to make myself think that as well, but I'm succeeding less and less these days I'm afraid.' When Robin didn't reply, he continued. He had to get this off his chest. 'When you just came here, I did hate you. Because you changed things, and brought danger to our hideout. Even when you later compensated this by helping us get more organized, I kept hating you.' He now looked straight back at her to emphasize his point. 'I don't have much left in this world, and one of those few things is my pride. I couldn't let myself admit that I stopped hating you somewhere along the way, and that I actually…', he had to force the words out by now, '_admired_ you for what you were doing. I couldn't even dislike you for your personality anymore, either. You're just so bloody likeable!' He raised his voice briefly, and tried to calm himself by dragging a hand through his hair and closing his eyes for a short time.

'But by then we were set in our ways. It would have looked very strange if I'd started being nice to you all of a sudden. So I continued with the fights, and it seemed like you'd given up on achieving peace with me anyway.' He sighed deeply once again, gathering courage for his final admission. He turned completely towards Robin now to commandeer her complete attention.

'But I can't do it anymore. I'm tired of trying to hurt you with my remarks for appearance's sake. I want to…I want…' He struggled to find the words to describe what he was feeling. No doubt the alcohol was enhancing those feelings and making him more talkative than ever; making Will admit things he'd otherwise never tell a living soul.

'I want to matter, I want to be important to you, Robin.' She was struck by his use of her name, which was a first since she'd met him. He seemed to wait for some sort of reply, but she was at a loss what to say. That she was still feeling the effects of the ale wasn't helping any either.

Seeing that Robin was to perplexed to react, Will sighed and changed the subject. 'You've obviously indulged yourself a little too much tonight. I think it's time for bed.'

Will stood up again, and hoisted his companion to her feet. 'Come on, I'll take you home.'

Robin merely nodded and allowed him to take her by the arm and guide her to her house. When they had arrived there without any major mishaps and Will turned to go, Robin finally spoke up.

'I don't want to fight anymore either, Will. I wish we didn't always have to. I bet you're nice, deep down. You have secrets though, many of them. I see them in your eyes and I can't help but want to know them. Want to know you.' It was clear that by this time Robin was more sleepy than anything else, and therefore exercising no censure over her thoughts before voicing them. She now tugged at his sleeves a little to get him to listen closer. 'Will you let me, Will? Let me know you?'

The young man was stunned as his brown eyes looked down into a set of green ones that seemed to be glowing, not aware that he was leaning ever closer. He was deeply touched by what she'd said, even if she was drunk. Not able to stop himself, Will gently cupped the younger girl's face and softly kissed the mouth that had tempted him all night. He refused to think about what he was doing, and equally refused to think about its implications come morning – if Robin would even remember things. He suddenly wasn't sure whether he wanted her to remember or not.

Feeling Robin respond hesitantly, Will started to move his mouth softly and slid one hand into her hair. He marvelled at the softness it and wished he could keep doing this forever. It was this thought that finally set off the alarm bells in his head, and he gently pulled back. Opening his eyes to look at Robin he saw that she still had hers closed, and had a contented expression on her face. Not knowing how to continue and too confused himself, he merely said, softly:

'Go to sleep, Robin. We'll see about all this in the morning.'

He then caressed her cheek one last time, turned and walked away swiftly. Robin's eyes fluttered open and followed his retreating figure before turning also and climbing the ladder to her house, her mind too muddled to make sense of anything. In the same contented mood she readied herself for bed, and nodded off as soon as her head touched the pillow.

Neither had noticed the lone spectator during their exchange. This spectator now dragged a hand through his bushy hair and turned to go back to the festivities that were dying down now. Things could become very interesting the following morning, he thought.

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**N/A:** I hope the party scene between Will and Robin wasn't too sappy. I haven't written that kind of thing before so if it's too much, just say so and I'll try to tone it down.

Sometimes I'm unsure about whether or not some words are used in Medieval times or not. I try to keep modern words to a minimum, but if you still find some inappropriate ones, I apologize.

Also, sorry to leave you with a cliff-hanger in Guy's part of the story; I kinda felt like using one and it gives me an easy way to start the next chapter.

Bet you can't wait, huh? .-


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